LE 


DARTMOUTH  '99 

VICENNIAL 

ETCHINGS  AND  ECHOINGS 


IN     ARCADY    AGAIN 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  Illinois  Urbana-Champaign 


http://archive.org/details/vicennialreportoOOdart 


\,  •** 


VICENNIAL  REPORT 

OF 

DARTMOUTH  '99 


FOLLOWED  BY  FOUR  LESSONS  FOR  THE  CLASS  IN  GEOGRAPHY 

AND 
SOME  OBSERVATIONS  ON  THE  DARTMOUTH  SESQUI-CENTENNIAL 


"And  when  there  come  at  last  those  happy  days, 
Let  every  voice  and  every  heart  combine 
In  our  chant  of  loyalty  and  praise  : 

Ninety-nine !    Ninety-nine !    Ninety-nine  !  " 

— From  Charles  H.  Donahue's  Vicennial  Re-union  Song. 


Printed  at  the  Dartmouth  Press 

Hanover,  N.  H. 

1920 


Oath  of  Office 


We  who  are  your  servants,  Ninety-Nine, — we  to 
whom  you  give  the  bidding  that  there  shall  again  be 
visualized  within  the  covers  of  a  printed  book  all  the 
gravity  and  the  gaiety,  all  the  steadfastness  and  the 
merrymaking  that  make  us  one, — 

We  salute  you,  brothers. 

Herein  we  picture  not  ourselves  but  you,  we  reflect 
not  our  own  feelings  and  aspirations  but  yours,  for  we 
are  you. 

And  for  the  years  that  we  may  stand  in  your  behalf 
before  our  august  mother,  Dartmouth  and  in  the  eyes 
of  the  calmly  judging  world,  we  pledge  you  every  meas- 
ure of  devotion,  and  that  same  loyalty  to  all  things  high 
that  has  inscribed  forever  on  the  college  scroll  of  honor 
those  who  have  preceded  us  in  service. 


D2-5U. 


Arcady 


You  are  back  in  Arcady.  From  cover  to  cover  there 
is  no  escape.  By  your  own  election  when  you  flung 
yourself  down  or  flopped  yourself  down  or  when  you 
humoured  those  rheumaticky  joints  and  just  let  your- 
self down  in  that  easy  chair,  with  this  book  in  your  hand, 
you  took  passage  to  Arcady.  For  Arcady  lies  in  the 
mind  and  the  mind  is  its  own  place.  There  may  be  mud 
or  sleet  or  a  gale  outside.     But  you  are  in  Arcady. 


Prelude 


To  the  greatest,  most  stupendous,  interstate,  cross-country, 
go-as-you-please-but-go-it-together  transportation  scheme 
ever  conceived  by  the  mind  of  man  since  the  days  of  Xerxes 
and  Genghis  Khan. 

While  most  of  the  '99  Vicennial  motorists  were  set- 
ting out  Friday  afternoon  for  Keene  or  Saturday  morn- 
ing for  the  Dartmouth-  Campus,  there  was  one  starter 
who  followed  his  invariable  custom  of  being  first  on  every 
'99  stamping  ground.  Who  but  George  Clark,  striving 
with  Warren  Kendall  and  Jim  Barney  to  knock  away  in 
season  the  last  restraining  blocks  that  the  good  ship 
u  '99  Vicennial"  might  slide  down  the  ways  of  a  perfect 
Junetide  and  be  launched  upon  the  blue  and  rippling  sea 
of  an  eternal,  sparkling  memory.  Thus  George  on  that 
memorable  June  morning,  Friday  the  20th,  took  his 
cousin  Clifford  Fifield,  a  future  Dartmouth  initiate,  and 

3 

683002 


set  out  from  Boston  with  Ned  Warren  '01  and  Mrs.  War- 
ren, in  their  car,  bearing  the  precious  freight  of  things 
secretarial,  chantantical,  social,  musical,  stereoptical,  and 
otherwise  Vicennial.  Packed  with  especial  care  was  a 
small  Pandora-like  chest  from  which,  as  all  mortals  know, 
there  had  flown  centuries  agone  every  species  of  misery 
and  woe,  and  in  which  alone  remained  the  beautiful 
winged  creature  whom  men  call  Hope.  And  as  the  swift 
miles  flew  behind  and  the  rolling  hills  wheeled  into  view 
above  the  horizon  ahead,  the  little  chest  shone  brighter 
and  more  luminous,  till  the  sun  itself  above  w^as  no>t  more 
glorious. 

Thus  Hope  led  all  the  rest  and  threw  her  enchant- 
ment over  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  old  college.  She 
cast  a  keen  and  ^wondrous  blue  into  the  sky  of  day  and 
a  rare  gleaming  into  the  stars  of  night,  she  filled  the  air 
with  freshness  and  music,  and  added  new  beauty  to  every 
tree  and  building.  And  into  every  soul  that  strayed 
within  ten  leagues  of  her  she  threw  an  exaltation  of  joy. 
joy  so  intense  that  the  very  features  of  the  face  glowed. 
Handshake  and  shoulder-clasp  and  eager  look  spoke  of 
a  comradeship  sincere  beyond  the  power  of  words,  last- 
ing beyond  a  poet's  fancy. 


A  Rushing  Sound  from  the  Four  Quarters  of  the  Com- 
pass. 

A  door  has  just  slammed.  It's  in  Suite  32  in  the 
Auditorium  in  windy  Chicago.  The  lock  has  snapped, 
and  there's  a  sign  pasted  on  the  groundglass  pane  — 

"Ache,  my  poor  friend, 
I'm  gone  for  a  while 
Where  aches  and  pains  end 
And  a  smile  is  the  style." 


Eastward,  eastward,  Cush  speeds,  while  faster, 
faster  behind  him,  unseen,  rushes  the  through  express  from 
Omaha  bearing  Buck  on  his  mad  plunge  for  Buffalo, 
there  to  leap  into  his  waiting  auto  and  outfoot  his  fleet  rival 
for  the  coveted  mug  of  long  distance  supremacy. 

Already  rushing  westward  across  the  Atlantic,  Wat- 
tie  has  churned  3000  miles  of  wild  sea  water  into  foam, 
that 

East  and  West  at  last  may  meet, 
Meet  where  the  meeting  is  sweet, 
Where  dreams  revive  at  the  Mother's  feet 
And  brothers  long  lost  we  greet. 

So  Bill  Wason  steams  north  from  the  torrid  South 
by  train,  while  Weary  Wardle  from  the  far  North  leaves 
his  flourishing  Laurentide  colony  to  light,  heat,  and  wash 
itself,  and  drives  south  himself  like  a  hurricane  alone 
in  his  powerful  seven-passenger  car. 

So  North  and  South  and  East  and  West 
By  roads  converging  do  attest 
One  homeland  only  is  the  best, — 
'Tis  Arcady,  forever  Blest. 

To  drop  rhyme  and  come  down  to  the  plain  prose 
of  it  we  had  a  traffic  squad  consisting  of  Walter  East- 
man, George  Huckins,  and  Luke  Varney,  that  could  make 
the  roughest  backhill  road  look  like  city  asphalt,  and 
they  juggled  timetables,  passenger  trains,  and  motor 
parties  like  wizards.  Here  is  Walter's  modest  statement 
of  it: 


Boston,  Mass.,  September  9,  19 19. 
Dear  Kenneth: — 

I  have  yours  of  July  28th  relative  to  the  twentieth  year 
reunion  in  Hanover  last  June,  and  I  especially  note  your 
suggestion  that  I  write  to  you  about  the  difficulties  of  a 
traffic  manager.  It  is  impossible  to  do  justice  to  your  sug- 
gestion, for  the  English  language  is  not  broad  enough  to 
adequately  express  the  conditions  which  the  Transportation 
Committee  were  up  against.  George  Clark,  as  Secretary, 
together  with  the  Executive  Committee,  conceived  the  idea 
of  taking  everyone  to  Hanover  by  automobile,  and  Secretary 
Clark  put  it  up  to  the  Transportation  Committee  as  an  iron- 
clad proposition  that  this  must  be  done.  Mr.  Clark,  being 
a  bachelor,  had  no  conception  of  the  difficulties  he  was  im- 
posing on  the  Transportation  Committee. 

The  Transportation  Committee  made  an  honest  en- 
deavor to  carry  out  the  automobile  transportation  idea,  but 
early  in  the  season  we  found  that  every  married  man  who 
owned  an  automobile  would  not  furnish  his  machine  unless 
he  could  choose  which  one  of  the  other  fellows'  wives  he 
would  take  to  Hanover.  All  of  the  unmarried  men  who 
owned  machines  insisted  that  they  would  not  furnish  the 
same  unless  they  could  choose  the  married  couple  who  would 
travel  with  them.  On  the  other  hand,  wives  of  the  various 
members  of  the  class  would  insist  upon  riding  to  Hanover 
in  the  automobiles  belonging  to  the  unmarried  men,  and  also 
there  was  one  bride-to-be  who  would  not  attend  the  reunion 
because  she  would  have  to  ride  in  the  same  machine  with  the 
about-to-be  bridegroom.  The  Transportation  Committee  did 
its  best  to  smooth  over  all  difficulties  and  please  everyone, 
and  ultimately  received  splendid  co-operation  from  all  mem- 
bers of  the  class  who  owned  automobiles. 

After  the  members  of  the  class  arrived  in  Hanover, 
it  was  found  that  the  automobile  transportation  feature  was 
a  very  good  thing.     The  numerous  letters  asking  for  co- 


6 


operation,  which  the  Transportation  Committee  sent  to 
members  of  the  class,  were  the  means  in  one  or  two  known 
instances  of  inducing  fellows  to  attend  the  reunion  who 
otherwise  would  not  have  done  so.  Furthermore,  condi- 
tions are  now  such  that  automobile  transportation,  after 
arrival  in  Hanover,  is  necessary,  and  as  all  members  of  the 
class  cannot  travel  to  Hanover  in  automobiles,  it  is  really 
necessary  for  every  member  of  the  class  who  can  do  so 
to  travel  to  Hanover  in  his  car,  in  order  that  there  may  be 
sufficient  automobile  space  available  in  Hanover  for  mem- 
bers who  are  without  such  transportation. 

In  connection  with  the  automobile  feature,  it  seems 
especially  fitting  to  mention  the  case  of  "Weary"  Wardle, 
who  traveled  alone  in  his  seven-seater  touring  car  all  the 
way  from  Shawinigan  Falls,  Canada,  to  Hanover,  and  the 
fact  that  he  brought  his  automobile  with  him  greatly  as- 
sisted the  Transportation  Committee  while  in  Hanover. 

I  wish  to  say  just  a  word  in  regard  to  the  personnel  of 
the  Transportation  Committee,  which  you  will  have  to  ap- 
point for  the  twenty-fifth  reunion.  It  may  be  that  by  the  year 
1924  aeroplanes  will  be  sufficiently  numerous  so  that  it  will 
be  desirable  to  have  everyone  travel  to  Hanover  by  aero- 
plane instead  of  automobile.  Be  that  as  it  may,  you  should 
select  as  members  of  your  Transportation  Committee  only 
such  men  as  own  automobiles  or  aeroplanes,  and  by  doing 
so,  I  believe  you  will  find  the  results  much  greater  than  those 
obtained  by  the  Transportation  Committee  for  the  twen- 
tieth year  reunion. 

Yours  very  truly, 

W.  R.  Eastman. 


ARRIVAL 


So  from  all  the  outposts  of  '99  geography  streamed  in 
the  joyous  reuners.  Bennie  and  Mrs.  Bennie  from  Indiana, 
Peddie  and  Mrs.  Peddie  from  Ohio  did  not  lag  behind. 
Cush  finished  his  journey  via  Randolph,  Vermont,  in  a  vain 
effort  to  fetch  with  him  his  sister  and  DuBois,  while  Buck 
turned  his  car  South  from  Buffalo  to  leave  Mrs.  Buck  with 
Mrs.  Pap  in  New  York  and  to  add  Pap  himself  and  Hawley 
Chase,  with  Lena  and  Leon,  that  incomparable  pair,  to 
his  festive  party.  Neal  Hoskins  had  for  himself  the  glory 
of  being  the  only  man  in  that  dull  yellow  column  of  "No's" 
in  the  committee's  advance  report  actually  to  repent  and  re- 
une.  He  and  Mrs.  Neal  came  down  from  Sugar  Hill  with 
his  brother  Carl  '94,  one  of  the  master  hosts  to  '99  on  Mon- 
day afternoon. 

From  western  New  York  motored  the  Winchesters 
with  their  boy  Robert  and  their  friend,  Miss  Dresser.  In 
the  car  of  their  good  friends  and  adopted  '99ers  Mr.  C.  W. 
Robie,  New  England  manager  of  the  American  Express 
Company,  and  his  son,  Mr.  Harold  W.  Robie,  came  War- 
ren Kendall  and  Mrs.  Warren,  while  Jerry  and  the  Gannons 
traveled  by  some  of  the  trains  that  the  "Shepherd  of  the 
Cars"  for  the  time  disdained.  Carl  Miller  and  Mrs.  Carl 
doubled  their  auto  quota  by  the  company  of  the  Green- 
woods, with  the  latter's  friend  Miss  Smith.  And  can  this 
be  the  "Class  Baby,"  clear-eyed  and  stalwart  Ronald  Leavitt 
with  his  father  and  mother  in  their  car?  One  more  tally 
and  the  Hanoverward  pouring  streams  will  all  be  within 
the  confines  of  middle  and  northern  New  England, — Wes- 
ley Jordan,  autoing  from  Beacon,  N.  Y.,  and  lodging  for  the 
reunion  period  at  Plaisted. 

Massachusetts!  Fred  Walker  and  Mrs.  Fred  are 
closing  the  rear  doors  of  their  machine  so  that  Elmer  and 
Mrs.  Elmer  and  Marie  shall  not  be  lost  out  on  the  way 

8 


north,  while  farther  west  Ralph  Payne  makes  an  early  Sat- 
urday morning  start  to  stop  at  Keene  to  pick  up  K.  Beal 
and  Mrs.  K.  for  the  rest  of  the  jaunt  Vicennialwards,  with 
a  side  trip  to  K.  U.  A.  thrown  in  for  good  measure.  From 
Boston,  Win  Adams  and  Mrs.  Win  rode  with  Jim  Barney 
and  Mrs.  Jim  north,  Jim's  nephew  Cahill  Hall  at  the  steer- 
ing wheel.  Sleep  drove  up  with  a  friend  Edgar  Lyle,  now 
Dartmouth  1923.  He  was  delayed  by  auto  trouble  too  late 
to  take  up  the  Aliens  as  he  had  planned.  Joe  Hobbs  and 
Mrs.  Joe  paired  off  with  Pitt  and  Mrs.  Pitt,  both  Jim's  and 
Pitt's  parties  swelling  the  jolly  fellowship  at  the  Cheshire 
Inn,  Keene,  that  memorable  Friday  night,  as  did  the  Ho- 
bans  and  the  Donnies  riding  from  Gardner  in  Owen's  car. 
But  read  at  first  hand  Mrs.  Carl  Miller's  account  of  this 
curtain  raiser  to  the  grand  Hanover  performance. 


Stamford,  Conn.,  September  16,  19 19. 

My  dear  Mr.  Secretary : — 

We,  the  Greenwoods  and  Millers,  arrived  at  Keene 
quite  early  and  so  had  ample  opportunity  to  watch  the  later 
arrivals  from  the  vantage  point  of  the  upper  balcony  of  the 
Cheshire  Inn.  Being  a  truly  green  Freshman  everything 
about  the  reunion  was  new  to  me.  Mrs.  Greenwood  was 
a  very  gracious  and  helpful  guide  and  as  each  auto  drove  up 
she  gave  me  name  and  leading  points  about  its  occupants. 
There  were  "Tap"  Abbott,  "Buck"  Burns  and  our  fellow 
townsman,  Hawley  Chase,  the  dignified  school  principal, 
arriving  in  a  large  car  with  "Lena"  conspicuously  placed 
on  the  rear  seat.  Then  came  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Winchester  and 
son  and  Miss  Dresser,  who  proved  to  be  such  a  delightful 
addition  to  the  ladies  of  the  reunion.  Next  to  arrive  were 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kendall,  bringing  as  guests  Messrs.  Robie, 
father  and  son.  Then  my  guide  pointed  out  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hobbs  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Pitt  Drew  arriving  further  down 
the  line. 


In  the  dining  room  '99  was  quite  in  possession.  Each 
new  arrival  was  hailed  uproariously  and  Freshman  Mrs. 
Miller  enjoyed  it  all  from  her  vantage  point,  wondering 
inwardly  if  she  could  ever  learn  to  fit  names  and  faces  to- 
gether. I  had  not  yet  learned  how  quickly  the  glorious  class 
of  '99  makes  you  one  of  its  own  and  how  soon  the  feeling 
of  strangeness  vanishes  like  a  morning  mist. 

After  supper,  or  dinner,  I  hardly  know  what  to  call 
that  meal  for  the  menu  card  seemed  to  have  on  it  all  the 
dishes  man  has  ever  concocted,  we  adjourned  again  to  the 
balcony,  and  Mr.  Sturtevant  appeared. 

About  eleven  o'clock  when  most  good  people  think 
of  retiring,  all  of  '99  that  were  within  hearing,  responded  to 
the  call  of  "Strawberries"  and  trooped  after  our  generous 
host  Mr.  Robie  to  a  nearby  "Ice  Cream  parlor,"  where  seat- 
ed on  high  stools  around  the  proverbial  "elegant  marble  top 
tables,"  the  Freshman  had  her  first  experience  of  the  fun 
making  capacity  of  the  '99  reunions. 

Mrs.  Pitt  Drew  had  a  mysterious  box  of  candy  which 
ought  to  be  immortalized  and  which  she  refused  to  open. 
Whether  some  stayed  up  all  night,  or  none  could  sleep,  is  a 
dark  mystery.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  we  all  started  to  Hano- 
ver at  a  fairly  early  hour  next  morning. 

You  must  permit  me,  Mr.  Secretary,  to  pay  my  tribute 
to  the  ladies  of  '99  as  I  saw  them,  with  the  exception  of  one 
or  two,  for  the  first  time.  I  have  brought  home  with  me 
many  pleasant  and  inspiring  memories  of  the  forty-three 
women  who  joined  in  the  activities  of  those  three  eventful 
days.  Mrs.  Pearl  and  Mrs.  "Peddy"  Miller,  both  so  re- 
sourceful ;  the  delightful  hostesses  of  the  afternoon  tea, 
Mrs.  Richardson,  Mrs.  Tibbetts,  and  Mrs.  Gannon;  charm- 
ing Mrs.  Benezet ;  and  not  least,  Mrs.  Huckins  and  Mrs. 
Hoban  who  planned  everything  so  successfully  for  our  com- 
fort. I  cannot  call  them  all  by  name  but  each  one  of  them 
contributed  something  to  the  spirit  of  good  fellowship  and 


10 


helped  make  it  to  me,  one  of  the  most  memorable  occasions 
of  my  life. 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

M.  Elizabeth  White  Miller. 

Two  other  motor  parties  crossed  the  line  into  New 
Hampshire  Saturday  morning, — Ralph  Hawkes  and  his  wife 
leaving-  the  dust  of  Millbury  behind  them,  and  the  Galushas, 
one  and  all,  Albert  and  Ruth  included,  forsaking  the  shades 
of  Sharon.  N.  P.  adjourned  court  at  Fitchburg  to  take 
train  for  New  Hampshire,  while  Bill  Eaton  dropped  jour- 
nalism to  see  to  it  that  Cav  had  proper  escort. 

From  northern  Vermont  Tedo  Chase  and  Fronco 
French  paid  carfare,  but  all  the  Joy  family,  including  Pau- 
line and  Barbara,  and  Ed  Flyatt  with  Mrs.  Ed  and  Allen 
bought  gasoline  and  spare  tires  instead. 

The  Silvers  from  Plymouth,  the  Rab  Abbotts  and  the 
Parkers  from  Manchester  drove  each  over  New  Hampshire 
roads  for  the  '99  Mecca.  Hoppy  and  Mrs.  Hoppy  with 
Faith  brought  Charlie  Adams  and  Charlie  Sturt  from  Keene, 
and  Jim  and  Mrs.  Jim  Walker  brought  Bill  Currier  from 
Amesbury  and  Major  Bob  and  Mrs.  Major  from  Concord. 
Hale  Dearborn  by  telephone  and  otherwise  having  failed 
to  tear  Herbert  Rice  from  his  intensive  farming  autoed  to 
Hanover  alone,  to  park  his  car  with  the  native  machines 
of  Jim  and  Dave  and  Mushie.  Nor  should  there  be  here 
omitted  as  present  those  other  Hanover  members  of  the 
great  Family  Ninety-Nine, — Skeet  and  Mrs.  Tibbetts,  Mrs. 
Jim  Rich,  Mrs.  Dave,  and  Mrs.  Mushie,  together  with  little 
year-old  Phoebe  Storrs  asleep  in  her  crib  at  home  and 
Louise  and  Frank  Richard  Musgrove  right  on  hand  for 
everything  included  in  the  rollicking  '99  program. 

Nor  did  the  traditional  Saturday  forenoon  train,  whose 
engine  was  depicted  heading  North  on  the  last  page  of  the 
Quindecennial  Report,  fail  to  pull  out  from  the  North  Sta- 
tion as  per  schedule.     On  it  were  the  entire  transportation 


11 


committee  already  mentioned,  Walter  Eastman,  George 
Huckins,  and  Luke  Varney,  the  first  two  with  their  wives, 
the  last  named  in  that  solitary  bachelor  state  that  still  graces 
a  few  of  our  esteemed  associates.  If  this  particular  trio  with 
the  program  committee,  consisting  of  Pitt,  Tim,  and  Ed  Al- 
len, do  not  deserve  to  rank  with  Baedeker  and  Raymond's  et 
al,  then  somebody  will  have  to  print  something  more  up  to 


date  than  that 
calendar  of 
those  six  June 
opening  of  the 
flyers  released 
through  those 
shadowings  of 
es  in  the  "ole 
hole"  (Heaven 
5  A.  M. !  even 
weary,  bedrag 
drooped,  hot- 
fowl  oft  the 
ette  didn't  re 
such  hour!), 
topsy-turvy  an 
"ski  -  jumping, 
m  i  1 1  i  n  g"  on 
those  six  stark 
words      on 


'99 


TIME  TABLE 

TO 

NINETY-NINE 

VICENNIAL 


over 
CLASS  LINES 

East,  West 

North  and  South 

to 

HANOVER  TERMINAL 


Revised  to  June  20,  1919 


with  its  gay 
events  for 
days  from  the 
"coops"  of  bird 
on  Friday, 
fantastic  fore- 
5  A.  M.  plung- 
s  w  i  m  m  i  n  g 
save  the  mark, 
those  world- 
gled,  feather- 
h  o  u  s  e-forced 
Morality  Play- 
hearse  at  any 
through  the 
nouncement  of 
weather  -  per- 
Tuesday,  to 
grim  -  as  -  fate 
Wednesday : 


"3.00 — Last  auto  starts  to  return." 


But  the  train!  Besides  those  already  mentioned  there 
were  on  board  Bill  and  Mrs.  Hutchinson,  with  the  three  lit- 
tle H's, — William,  Sarah,  and  Martha;  Captain  Wattie; 
Eddie  Skinner ;  Spade  Heywood ;  Ed  Allen  and  Mrs.  Allen 
and  Theodore;  Tim  Lynch;  Ray  Pearl  and  his  wife;  and 
Harry  Wason  with  his  wife  and  Lloyd. 


12 


The  journey  is  reported  on  the  best  authority  to  have 
been  made  without  adventure,  though  Walter  Eastman  was 
seen  perilously  near  the  starting  time  at  nine  striding  down 
the  middle  of  Franklin  Street  carrying  what  appeared  to 
be  a  2  x  4  trunk.  How  he  actually  arrived  at  the  North 
Station  is  unknown.  By  some  good  omen  from  the  same 
bright  winged  Hope  that  had  sped  over  the  road  the  day 
before,  seats  in  a  parlor  car  had  been  obtained  at  the  last 
moment.  But  by  the  malign  influence,  it  must  have  been  of 
some  contrary  minded  sprite,  Harry  Wason  had  not  secured 
one  of  these  seats.  Though  he  traveled  up  and  down  the 
length  of  the  train,  he  maintains  to  this  day  that  he  saw 
not  one  familiar  face.  Such  are  the  changes  of  twenty 
years !  So  he  missed  Tim's  lively  accounts  of  doings  in  the 
Clark  farm  hayfields,  and  Wattie's  pictures  of  days  and 
nights  in  No  Man's  Land.  Likewise  he  skipped  Dr.  Pearl's 
extemporaneous  course  on  the  food  situation  and  on  the 
intricacies  of  the  League  of  Nations. 

Luke,  it  should  be  mentioned,  boarded  the  train  at  Con- 
cord whither  he  had  come  from  his  farm  at  Dover,  and  left 
it  at  Leb  to  motor  to  Hanover  with  Jim  Rich  and  Joe  Gan- 
non. 

Then  came  the  mad  scramble  at  the  June,  the  sighting 
of  Bennie  and  Peddie  and  their  wives,  the  desperate  toe  hold 
on  the  bottom  step  of  the  connecting  train  for  Hanover — 
and  finally  the  uproar  at  the  Norwich-Hanover  station.  A 
covey  of  autos  with  windshields  bearing  the  friendly  labels 

'99 
ON  TO 

DARTMOUTH 

a     chorus     of     shouts, — "Wah-hoo-wah !     Wah-hoo-wah !" 
blurred  into  "  '99  up !  '99  up !"    Handshakes,  and  incoherent 


13 


shoutings,  stacking  and  shoving  of  luggage,  vain  hunting 
for  the  Benezet  trunk,  the  procession  marshalled  across  the 
jarring,  resounding  bridge,  the  hill,  the  Campus, — and  there 
again  at  last  the  hospitable  portal  of  Middle  Massachusetts, 
with  the  starry  '99  service  flag  hung  low. 

And  here  is  Weary  Wardle  to  fill  the  shoes  of  the  ab- 
sent Jack  Sanborn  and  John  DuBois  as  well  as  his  own  for 
the  House  Committee.  And  here  are  Mrs.  Hoban  and  Mrs. 
Huckins  doing  right  well  their  duty  for  the  Ladies'  Com- 
mittee, regretting  Mrs.  Irving's  absence,  but  ably  support- 
ed by  Mrs.  Barney  and  Mrs.  Kendall,  who  are  busily  pin- 
ning on  the  chevrons  with  their  coveted  testimony  to  every 
man's,  woman's  and  child's  '99  percentage  in  the  importance 
of  attending  class  reunions.  Here  is  Phil  Winchester  al- 
ready unlimbering  his  camera,  but  lamenting  his  partner, 
Paul  Osgood's  non-arrival.  And  everywhere  is  evidence 
of  the  far-sighted  efforts  of  the  local  '99  contingent  on  the 
Properties  Committee :  Skeet  Tib,  Mrs.  Musgrove  and  Mrs. 
Storrs,  and  of  the  Commissary  Committee:  Dave  Storrs, 
Mrs.  Tibbetts  and  Mrs.  Richardson. 

Mrs.  Drew  and  Mrs.  Hobbs  are  engaged  in  a  desperate 
competition  to  see  which  can  remove  the  wrinkles  from  the 
greatest  number  of  shirtwaists  with  that  historic  Quindecen- 
nial  electric  iron  before  some  ridiculously  faint-hearted  fuse 
burns  out.  But  Mrs.  Benezet  can  think  only  of  that  missing 
trunk — found,  we  are  glad  to  say,  the  next  morning.  Pap, 
too,  is  still  minus  a  dress  suit  case,  lost  from  the  running 
board  somewhere  in  northern  Massachusetts  and  not  to  be 
retrieved  even  by  the  most  reckless  of  long  distance  tele- 
phone calls  until  that  night.  But  he  has  consolation.  Pie 
has  only  to  go  out  and  converse  with  the  fair  Lena  on  the 
back  seat  of  Buck's  car,  or  chum  with  her  sprightly  offspring 
Leon,  who  sits  erect  and  .staring  on  the  radiator.  Hawley 
does  his  duty  by  the  uprising  generation  by  endeavoring  to 
keep  a  lighted  cigarette  between  the  young  aristocrat's  lips, 
but  Leon  is  stuffy  and  will  not  "pull"  properly. 


14 


Jim  Barney,  without  a  watch,  and  insisting  that  "there 
is  no  such  thing  as  time"  these  next  five  days,  is  none  the 
less  somehow  telepathically  aware  of  the  passage  of  said 
time,  for  promptly  on  the  stroke  of  four,  as  per  schedule, 
he  and  George  Clark  line  up  with  Joe  Gannon  for  the  in- 
vestiture of  the  latter  as  '99  Field  Marshal. 

Says  Jim : — 

"Mr.  Secretary  of  the  Dartmouth  Class  of  1899,  I  pre- 
sent to  you  Joseph  W.  Gannon,  gallant  leader  of  the  '99 
Battalion  of  the  Dartmouth  Army  of  Alumni  upon  the  Re- 
union Fields  at  Hanover  and  abroad,  distinguished  in  ser- 
vice to  the  Class  of  '99  as  well  as  to  the  Royal  Baking  Pow- 
der Co.  and  the  public  of  the  United  States,  for  the  merited 
honor  of  Field  Marshal  of  the  Vicennial  Reunion  of  the 
Class  of  1899." 

Says  George : — 

"Joseph  William  Gannon,  gallant  Marshal  of  the  Class 
of  '99  on  all  Reunion  occasions,  by  virtue  of  the  authority 
vesting  in  me  as  Secretary  of  the  Class  of  Ninety-Nine,  I 
hereby  confer  upon  you  the  title  of  Field  Marshal  of  this 
Vicennial  Reunion  and  do  invest  you  with  this  Field  Mar- 
shal's sash  and  baton  to  be  by  you  worn  and  carried  at  all 
times,  together  with  the  powers,  privileges  and  emoluments 
thereto  appertaining." 

And  with  these  words  he  loops  over  Joe's  shoulders  the 
striking  green  and  white  regalia,  and  puts  in  his  hand  the 
baton  of  authority. 

We  breathe  more  freely,  as  breathed  the  Allies  when 
Foch  assumed  commanding  power.  How  familiar  that 
ringing  call  of  "Fa-a-all  in !" 

But  this  time  it  is  into  the  waiting  line  of  2J  autos  that 
we  "fall"  for  our  sight-seeing  tour  of  Hanover. 


15 


The  Sightseeing  Trip  of  Hanover 

The  sightseeing  trip  was  one  of  the  pleasant  features 
of  the  reunion.  As  we  proceeded  down  Main  street,  which 
we  had  so  frequently  travelled  twenty  years  before,  we 
could  almost  see  our  Freshman  feet  walking  that  same 
thoroughfare,  perchance  hustling  to  beat  out  the  Chapel 
bell  or  walking  behind  the  College  band  (which  our  class 
instituted),  as  we  celebrated  some  glorious  athletic  victory. 

Of  course  the  outstanding  feature  of  the  parade  was 
the  speech  of  Ikey  Leavitt  before  the  historic  "frontis- 
piece" of  the  old  Rood  house,  which  now  serves  as  the 
porch  to  one  of  the  residences  of  Hanover,  on  Lebanon  St. 
The  town  fathers  knew  Ikey's  reputation  as  guard  of  the 
exchequer  and  extractor  of  revenue,  which  explains  why, 
in  order  to  preserve  this  piece  of  architecture  for  posterity, 
they  lifted  it  from  the  abode  of  Ikey  the  collector  (when 
the  Rood  house  was  demolished)  and  transferred  it  to  the 
house  of  the  town  collector  of  revenue,  Tax  Collector 
Chesley.  And  incidentally  the  new  location  was  sufficiently 
inspiring  to  Ikey  to  put  him  on  his  mettle  and  cause  him 
to  expound  one  of  the  longest  and  best  speeches  of  the  re- 
union. In  fact,  Ikey  would  be  speaking  yet  had  the  mar- 
shal of  the  day  not  ordered  us  to  proceed.  Ikey  told  us 
of  everything  which  took  place  in  the  Rood  house  while  we 
were  in  College.  The  Chesley  house  is  in  close  proximity 
to  the  athletic  field  which  fact  added  more  stimulus  to 
Ikey's  propensity  to  "reminisce",  for  as  he  spoke  Ikey 
thought  of  the  tri-collegiates  and  that  famous  two-mile  run 
of  his  in  which,  at  the  finish,  he  had  to  dodge  the  hurdles 
which  were  being  placed  for  the  next  race  and  which  caused 
his  classmates  to  remark  that  he  was  first  in  the  hurdles, 
not  last  in  the  two-mile. 

The  parade  stopped  at  Long  Jim's  long — we  mean 
lawn  Jim's  long, — or,  rather,  Lawn  Jim's  long — no  Long 
Jim's  lawn,  that's  IT.  And  the  feed  which  Long  Jim  and 
Mrs..  Jim  put  up  for  us  will  be  remembered  as  long  as  Jim 
is  Long. 

16 


yn  , 


Welcome  to  Arcady 


A  Marshal  Ably  Marshalled 


Ikey  on  Rood  House  Porch 


.  wv^-^^sb:^MM 


The  Tea  at  Long  Tim's 


So  we  came  back  to  Long  Jim's,  feeling  like  wander- 
ers of  yore  who  find,  however  late  their  home-coming  may 
be  deferred,  the  cheering  lamp  alight  in  some  upper  window. 


THE  RECEPTION  AT  LONG  JIM'S 


The  notable  social  event  of  the  twentieth  reunion  was 
the  delightful  garden  party  given  by  Professor  and  Mrs. 
Richardson  and  Registrar  and  Mrs.  Tibbetts  to  classmates 
and  their  wives  at  the  beautiful  new  Richardson  home  on 
Choate  Road.  Following  the  motor  trip  and  walk  to  the 
Ski  Jump,  it  was  the  first  real  gathering  of  the  class  since 
their  arrival  from  all  parts  of  the  country,  and  the  beginning 
of  an  eventful  week.  The  day  was  ideal,  typical  of  "Han- 
over in  June,"  a  fitting  augury  of  the  coming  festivities 
Hosts  and  hostesses  received  their  guests  with  cordial  in- 
formality, giving  the  keynote  to  the  whole  happy  occasion. 
On  every  side  were  heard  the  hearty  and  joyous  greetings 
of  '99ers  meeting  after  years  of  separation.  The  dignified 
colonial  home  with  its  beautiful  lawn  and  garden  made  a 
charming  setting  for  the  gay  costumes  of  the  ladies,  creat- 
ing a  picture  long  to  be  remembered.  Tables  were  artistical- 
ly arranged  and  were  presided  over  by  Mrs.  Joseph  Gan- 
non and  Mrs.  Warren  Kendall.  Punch  and  delicious  con- 
fections were  served.  Late  in  the  afternoon  the  guests  re- 
gretfully left,  with  deep  appreciation  of  the  hospitality  re- 
ceived and  with  the  pleasant  realization  that  Ninety-Niners 
when  in  Hanover  may  indeed  feel  always  "At  home." 

Lina  Lyon  Hobbs. 

Supper  with  the  white-coated  waiters  at  the  Common, 
or  in  the  comfortable  Grill,  or  more  pretentiously  with  Perry 
Fairfield  at  the  Inn.    Then  back  to  the  bright  lights  of  Mid- 
17 


die  Massachusetts,  the  piano  on  the  porch  and  the  informal 
rows  of  chairs  on  the  road  beneath. 

Prompt  testimony  to  the  busy  days  of  the  Music  Com- 
mittee (Win  Adams,  Willis — of  whose  unavoidable  absence 
more  later — N.  P.,  and  Cav.)  came  in  the  form  of  a  neat 
40-page  book  of  "Ninety-Nine's  Own  Songs"  now  distrib- 
uted. "If  you  can't  crow,  cackle,"  was  Weary's  injunction 
on  the  cover.  So  with  Mrs.  Kendall  at  the  piano  and  Ben- 
nie  or  Win  "crowing"  and  spurring  us  on,  the  rest  of  us 
cackled  or  near-crowed,  as  the  case  might  be.  Mostly  the 
crowd  spent  the  short  hour  allotted  for  the  "Hum"  on  the 
new  songs  written  especially  for  the  Twentieth  Reunion. 
First  there  was  "How,  How,  How,"  Sam  Occom's  way,  but 
sung  Win  Adams'  way ;  then  the  martial  theme  of  "Building 
a  Bridge  to  ,Berlin"  ninety-ninified  by  George  Clark  into 
"Driving  our  Dodge  to  Dartmouth ;"  "Dear  Old  Cav,"  next, 
made  by  Pap  to  carry  over  into  the  perfect  comradeship  of 
the  hour  the  vibrant  sentiment  of  "Old  Black  Joe;"  "Cheers" 
and  "Old  Dartmouth  Calls"  by  K.  Beal  to  give  the  music  of 
"Smiles"  and  "Joan  of  Arc"  a  local  flavor;  Donnie's, unfail- 
ing new  contribution  to  reunion  musical  literature,  this  time 
bidding  "Madelon"  ring  true  not  to  "the  whole  regiment" 
but  to  "Ninety-Nine;"  and  finally  Jim  Barney's  immortaliz- 
ing of  Bob  Johnston's  "Straw-be-e-e-ries"  call  by  fitting  it 
to  the  timely  and  tuneful  tune  of  "Oh !  How  I  Hate  to  Get 
Up  in  the  Morning."  So  the  ever-growing  crowd  sang  until 
the  light  of  early  evening  began  to  dusk. 


AT  THE  MOVIES 


I  can  see  us  all  so  vividly  sitting  by  the  steps  of  "our" 
Massachusetts  Hall  singing  "Strawberries,"  that  gem  of 
Mr.  Barney's   (or  was  it  "Dear  Old  Cav"  we  were  sing- 

18 


ing?),  when  suddenly  our  splendiferous  marshal  descended 
upon  us  bearing  gifts — a  box  of  delicious  candy  for  each 
lady!  and  shouted  "Attention!  Everybody!  Fa-a-a-11  in! 
Will  the  ladies  please  start  at  once  for  the  theatre?  You 
will  just  be  in  time  if  you  hurry."  And  we  hurried.  "Theirs 
not  to  reason  why."  Nor  did  we  stand  upon  the  order  of 
our  going,  but  rushed  off  arm-in-arm  by  threes  and  fours, 
and  the  men  strolled  along  to  see  us  there  sateiy.  Who 
was  to  escort  us  back?  As  we  waited  at  the  door  of  the 
theatre,  the  Ninety-nine  men,  grouped  together,  hats  held 
high,  sang  "Goodnight,  Ladies."  It  was  one  of  the  splendid 
moments  for  the  ladies  and  a  great  thrill  of  pride  went 
through  us  all  to  think  that  these  gallant  men  belonged 
to  us,  that  we  too  were  Ninety-niners. 

Then  we  went  in  to  the  movie  and  I  am  sorry  but 
somehow  my  impression  of  the  picture  so  carefully  picked 
out  for  us  is  rather  hazy.  The  memory  of  that  beautiful 
Sunday  and  Monday  seem  to  have  eclipsed  it  almost  en- 
tirely. It  was  a  picture  with  a  moral  I  remember — two 
pictures  there  were,  with  two  morals.  The  first  had  to  do 
with  the  passing  of  John  Barleycorn — there  could  have 
been  no  method  in  choosing  that  for  us.  Therefore  the 
second  picture  must  have  been  the  appropriate  one.  It 
was,  if  I  remember  aright,  a  plea  for  femininity,  also  a 
tip  on  how  to  keep  a  husband.  Was  there  method  in 
choosing  that  for  us?  Surely  not,  for  the  tip  was  to  keep 
the  village  dressmaker  very  busy  and  what  husband  among 
the  Ninety-niners  would  dare  risk  urging  that?  But  per- 
haps it  was  our  bachelor  secretary  who  risked  so  much — 
could  it  have  been  ?    Probably  we  will  never  know ! 

After  the  movies  we  strolled  slowly  home  to  Middle 
Massachusetts,  renewing  old  friendships  and  starting  new 
ones  as  we  went,  the  first  opportunity  for  many  of  us  to 
begin  to  know  each  other,  we  wives  of-  tne  Ninety-nine 
men  who  know  and  love  each  other  so  well. 


19 


After  we  got  back  to  Massachusetts  Hall,  most  of  the 
ladies  gathered  on  the  steps  for  more  visiting,  but  some 
of  us  had  come  a  long  way  to  this  Twentieth  Reunion — 
two  nights  on  the  sleeper — and  nature  asserted  itself.  I 
heard  in  the  morning  that  the  reuning  continued  almost 
indefinitely,  but,  though  no  one  believes  it,  I  still  insist  that 
I  didn't  hear  it  that  night,  and  I  felt  so  cheated  about  it. 
I  approved  so  heartily  of  Mr.  Folsom's  sentiments  upon  the 
subject  of  sleep  and  reunions  that  I  was  very,  very  careful 
never  to  miss  another  minute  of  that  wonderful  glorious 
time. 

Genevieve  Benezet. 


The  chorus  with  which  we  parted  from  the  ladies, 
"Good-night,  ladies,  good-night,  ladies,  We're  going  to  leave 
you  now,"  merged  suddenly  in  the  arid  and  ominous  melody 
"How  Dry  I  Am."  Then  hands  on  shoulders,  and  in  prison 
lock  step  to  the  roar  of  the  ever  popular  tunes  of  Jack 
Sanborn's  sonnet  "Oh,  There's  Nineteen  Three  and  There's 
Nineteen  Four,"  and  Donnie's  "E-Yip-I-Addy-I-Ay-I-Ay," 
while  the  crowd  on  the  Commons  and  on  the  streets  and 
Campus  watched  and  listened,  the  men  of  '99  trod  north- 
ward, north  past  the  Campus  and  the  lights  of  College 
back  to  the  scene  of  the  afternoon  tea.  The  lawn  was  un- 
lighted  and  deserted,  but  the  house  shone  with  welcome. 
But  let  Bennie  tell  it. 


IN  JIM'S  DUNGEON 


It  is  peculiarly  difficult  to  perpetuate  for  the  fellows 
who  were  there,  the  scene  in  Long  Jim's  den  that  Saturday 


20 


evening,  and  to  describe  it,  for  those  who  were  not,  in 
such  a  way  as  to  make  it  seem  real  to  them. 

To  me  the  whole  experience  remains  as  the  effect  of 
an  impressionist  picture; — the  evening  was  complete  and 
satisfying.  There  hung  around  it  an  atmosphere,  intangible, 
hard  to  describe,  but  very  real  and  characteristic.  It  was 
not  a  succession  of  incidents,  songs  and  talks.  It  was  a 
state  of  mind,  full  of  deep  feelings  and  suppressed  emotion. 

To  describe  it  to  those  who  were  not  there  is  like  send- 
ing them  a  snapshot  of  a  Vermont  sunset,  or  letting  them 
see  a  rose  in  a  sealed  glass  case. 

Picture,  ye  recreant  or  unfortunate  ninety-niners,  the 
home  of  Professor  Long  Jim, — a  beautiful,  big,  brick  struc- 
ture located  half  way  down  the  slope  that  inclines  from 
Webster  Avenue  (Tute  Worthen's  house)  to  Faculty 
Pond  (golf  links.) 

There  was  no  road  or  street  there  in  our  days.  I 
think  the  land  was  part  of  the  Morse  Farm.  The  house  is 
colonial  in  style,  trimmed  with  white.  It  has  a  spacious, 
flat  lawn  on  the  south  side,  but  on  the  north  the  ground 
falls  away,  so  that  the  level  of  the  basement  floor  is  that 
of  the  soil  outside.  Across  this  north  side  of  the  house, 
which  is  the  long  way  of  it,  Jim  has  a  big,  long  room  with 
a  high  mantel  and  a  fireplace  at  one  end.  The  floor  is  of 
cement,  but  there  are  wooden  window  seats  and  a  long, 
substantial  table  surrounded  by  comfortable  chairs.  Imag- 
ine some  sixty  men,  all  in  younger  middle  age,  sitting,  squat- 
ting, lying  around  this  room.  The  air  is  grey  with  smoke. 
Out  in  the  hall  there  is  a  light,  but  the  only  illumination 
within  comes  from  the  fireplace.  At  one  end  of  the  table 
is  a  big  bowl  full  of  a  wonderful  liquid.  As  it  was  planned 
on  the  2 ist  floor  of  the  Singer  Building,  and  a  nearly  bald- 
headed  ex-pillar  of  Bartlett  Hall  is  stirring  it  around  with 
a  ladle,  I  suspect  that  it  runs  more  than  one-half  of  one 
percent;  but,  with  July  first  only  a  few  days  off,  all  of  us, 
ardent  drys  and  wets  alike,  drink  at  least  one  glass. 


21 


Here  are  four  or  five  distinguished  college  professors, 
a  judge  of  the  Massachusetts  Supreme  Court,  a  few  pros- 
perous manufacturers,  a  collection  of  Massachusetts'  most 
brilliant  and  successful  lawyers,  a  red-faced,  battle-scarred 
Major  fresh  from  France,  a  gray-headed,  stocky  Captain, 
ditto,  five  or  six  leaders  among  New  England's  teachers, 
a  rising  author,  and  some  twenty-five  business  and  pro- 
fessional men.  Men  who  rendered  invaluable  service  to 
their  country  in  the  great  war  are  there,  and  an  atmosT 
phere  of  solidity  and  substantial  responsibility  pervades 
the  group. 

Yet  a  moment  ago  this  crowd  were  roaring  out,  under 
the  leadership  of  the  judge  and  a  prominent  lumber  mer- 
chant, something  about  "the  best  damn  class"  that  ever 
graduated  from  Dartmouth  College,  disparaging  and  casting 
aspersions  upon  all  subsequent  (or  previous)  classes.  Here 
is  a  prominent  Gothamite,  a  pillar  of  the  stock  exchange, 
wandering  about  like  a  lost  soul  on  the  banks  of  the  Styx, 
telling  everyone  who  will  listen  the  harrowing  tale  of  how 
his  suitcase  had  been  left  behind,  somewhere  on  the  road 
from  Northampton  to  Greenfield.  He  is  clad  in  shorts, — 
golf  stockings,  a  cap,  etc.  "All  I  have,"  he  repeats,  mourn- 
fully, "two  hundred  dollars'  worth  of  stuff  just  lost."  But 
he  is  game.  The  fun  of  being  here  would  compensate  him 
for  several  such  losses.  See  that  pair  talking  together — 
one  the  man  who  has  come  the  greatest  distance  to  attend 
the  reunion,  the  other  a  leading  educator  and  deacon  of 
the  church.  They  didn't  take  much  interest  in  each  other 
in  Freshman  year,  those  two.  Yet  here  they  are,  chatting 
like  long  lost  brothers.  That  is  the  beauty  of  Ninety-nine 
and  Dartmouth  College.  It  is  particularly  true  of  our  class. 
We  know  each  other  thoroughly,  and  knowing,  we  respect 
and  sympathize,  even  where  we  differ. 

A  yell  at  the  door :  "Yeaa,  Franko !"  A  wild  shout 
as  the  long-legged  Vermonter  shakes  hands  vigorously  with 


22 


everybody  who  can  get  to  him.  He  is  unchanged  from 
twenty  years  ago,  save  for  graying  hair. 

Another  song;  the  company  is  getting  a  little  noisier. 
See  that  other  couple  in  close  confab.  In  college  they  be- 
longed to  rival  fraternities  and  rival  class  societies.  They 
were  on  opposite  sides  of  the  fence  in  every  fight  that  came 
up.  Then  after  graduation,  at  Ninety-Nine  and  Dartmouth 
round-ups,  they  met,  co-operated,  and  came  to  know  each 
other  for  the  first  time.  They  are  now  warm  friends. 
Again  typical  of  Ninety-nine. 

The  telephone  rings.  "Yes, — hey,  be  quiet  a  minute, 
you  fellows — what?  Pap's  suitcase  has  been  found? 
Great  stuff.  Coming  up  by  express  on  next  train!"  And 
another  wild  yell  celebrates  the  event. 

A  moment  later  there  is  another  commotion  at  the  en- 
trance. A  second  belated  arrival — "Spade"  Hey  wood,  this 
time.  Joyously  is  he  greeted,  a  cup  of  the  raspberry  punch 
is  handed  him,  and  we  are  quiet  again. 

"Now,  fellows,"  says  a  well-known  business  man, 
"turn  to  page  26  in  your  song  books  and  sing  Pap's  song." 

And  the  sixty  voices  blended  softly  in  the  strains  of  a 
familiar  melody: 

,     "Here  are  his  friends  for  years  well  tried  and  true, 
Here  are  his  pals  at  home  and  football,  too. 
Long  have  we  wished  the  chance  that  now  we  have 
To  hear  his  classmates'  voices  singing  Dear  Old  Cav. 

"We're  singing,  we're  singing,  with  all  the  love  we  have. 
Just  hear  his  old  friends'  voices  calling  Dear  Old  Cav." 

And  the  battle-scarred  veteran  of  the  Meuse-Argonne 
sat  through  it,  silent,  but  with  a  look  upon  his  face  that 
we  shall  not  soon  forget.  It  is  given  to  many  to  hear  praise 
and  adulation,  but  to  few  to  hear  words  of  such  genuine 
affection  from  those  whom  we  like  best  of  all  to  please. 


23 


Finally  he  arose  and  answered  us.  His  voice  was  even 
and  restrained,  but  there  was  a  suppressed  feeling  that 
thrilled  us,  even  though  it  was  not  expressed.  In  simple, 
direct  words,  straight  from  the  heart  "Cav"  thanked  us. 

Some  of  those  before  him  had  always  been  his  warm 
partisans  and  supporters  in  college  days.  Others  had  been 
among  his  opponents.  Now  all  that  was  forgotten.  He 
was  our  old  "Cav"  again,  and  we  were  giving  him  the 
same  kind  of  affectionate  hero-worship  that  we  had  felt 
for  him  in  the  days  when  we  were  freshmen  and  he  had 
played  on  the  championship  varsity  team. 

A  hush  fell  upon  the  crowd;  the  chatting  and  visiting 
were  renewed,  but  it  was  in  a  lower  key.  Herb  Collar 
was  mentioned,  and  the  card  addressed  to  George  that  was 
found  in  hi.-  coat.  Here  was  "Peddy"  telling  how  ,Bob 
Croker  had  promised  to  come,  but  had  not  shown  up.  Some 
one  else  said  that  "Galush"  was  in  Hanover  but  that  he 
had  driven  right  by  some  classmates  who  had  failed  to 
recognize  him  with  his  pointed  beard. 

Always  the  talk  turned  to  the  absent  ones.  There 
was  rejoicing  over  the  news  that  Tom  Cogswell  and  Charlie 
Adams  were  at  last  going  to  show  up.  Eddie  Skinner  was 
chided  for  his  long  absence  from  reunions.  "Fat"  Dubois, 
Bert  Boston  and  Mun  Folsom  were  asked  for.  It  was  ex- 
plained that  Killum  Dickey  has  as  his  boss  a  Dartmouth 
man  of  the  class  of  '94,  and  that  the  boss  simply  ordered 
Maurice  to  run  the  paper  for  a  week  while  he  attended 
'94's  reunion.  The  evening  wore  on.  There  wasn't  any 
breaking  up  of  the  party.  It  just  drifted  down  the  street 
'and  melted  into  the  group  at  Middle  Massachusetts,  which 
was  reuning  continuously.  For  those  of  us  who  believed 
in  going  to  bed  the  first  day  was  over.  Others,  no  doubt, 
were  actuated  by  the  spirit  that  Mun  expressed  so  aptly 
in  1909.  "Oh  go  to  bed  and  shut  up,"  shouted  some  one 
from  an  adjoining  hall  to  a  group  of  Ninety-niners.     "Shut 


24 


up  yourself,"  answered  Mun.     ''I've  been  going  to  bed  for 
ten  years!" 

Louis  P.  Benezet. 


The  moving  picture  show  did  not  time  its  performance 
exactly  right  and  consequently  the  ladies  found  themselves 
back  at  Middle  Massachusetts  a  bit  before  the  men.  They 
seemed  to  mind  not  a  whit,  however,  but  set  up  a  musical 
all  their  own  with  Mrs.  Donahue  at  the  piano.  This  celebra- 
tion was  interrupted  only  by  two  stray  Ninety-Niners  who 
were  not  positively  identified  but  were  shrewdly  judged 
by  the  party  to  have  been  sent  to  determine  whether  it 
would  be  discreet  to  return.  This  at  any  rate  was  Mrs 
Allen's  conclusion.  Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Drew  had  put  to  em- 
barrassed flight  a  group  of  youthful  but  lost  reuners  who 
claimed  to  be  representatives  of  1916,  with  a  judicial  query 
"What  are  you  doing  here  in  the  Old  Ladies'  Home?"  But 
three  other  visitors,  undergraduates  of  the  cast  in  "Oh, 
Doctor,"  won  themselves  a  welcome  by  their  jovial  singing 
and  playing  of  portions  of  that  lightsome  opera  to  be  heard 
on  Monday  night. 

The  air  grew  chilly,  the  day  had  been  long,  and  the 
journeying  far.  One  by  one  the  waiting  group  departed, 
nor  did  the  men  on  their  return  from  Long  Jim's  tarry 
long  themselves.  Their  judgment  was  canny,  for  after 
that  night  sleep  fled  the  Vicennial,  outcast  and  outlawed. 

Even  this  night  there  were  some  owls,  owls  of  good 
will  and  wisdom,  an  auto  full  with  George  Clark  in  charge, 
who  rode  to  the  June  to  meet  Tom  Cogswell  as  he  pulled  in 
at  three  Sunday  morning.  And  if  you  don't  believe  that 
the  '99  spirit  was  rampant  on  that  occasion,  just  turn  over 
the  pages  and  read  Tom's  letter  in  the  news  budget  from 
Vermont. 


25 


MEMORIAL  SERVICE 


Sunday  Morning,  June  22 

Again  to  the  class  of  '99  had  come  irreparable  loss  in 
the  passing  to  the  life  beyond  of  loved  and  honored  mem- 
bers.    Again  in  accordance  with  our  custom,  for  which  at 
each   reunion   there   has   been   ever    sad    occasion,    we   set. 
aside  an  hour  for  our  memorial  service. 

We  gathered  Sunday  morning  in  Rollins  Chapel,  a 
place  dear  to  us  all  and  sacred  because  here  Dr.  Tucker's 
great  message  of  faith  in  humanity  and  love  of  truth  and 
God,  had  reached  our  hearts.  The  three  men  who  con- 
ducted  the  service  constituted  the  Committee  who  arranged 
it.  "Sleep"  was  at  the  organ,  and  the  music  lifted  our 
spirits  in  the  midst  of  our  sad  commemoration.  Good  old 
"Sturt"  assisted  Montie  in  the  devotional  exercise,  bringing 
to  us  the  great  truth  of  the  word  of  God.  And  Montie  in 
an  address  that  was  an  inspiration  to  all,  showed  how  those 
of  our  class  whom  we  mourn  had  contributed  to  the  life 
of  the  world. 

In  the  solemn  hour  in  Rollins  Chapel,  moved  by  the 
sweet  associations  of  the  place,  by  the  uplift  of  the  hymns 
and  the  words  of  our  spiritual  leader,  we  inwardly  gave 
tender  tribute  to  those  most  recently  deceased,  and  to  all 
those  classmates  who,  since  we  entered  Dartmouth,  have 
been  called  to  the  higher  life. 

Leaving  the  chapel  service,  with  its  deep  significance, 
we  were  still  to  complete  our  memorial  tribute.  With  wives 
and  children  and  guests,  our  procession  moved  to  the  grave 
of  our  beloved  teacher  and  honorary  classmate,  Professor 
Richardson.  As  we  passed  the  memorial  stone  at  his  grave 
and  formed  our  quiet  circle,  we  could  read  the  record : 


26 


Charles  Francis  Richardson 

185 1 1913 

Ardent  and  appreciative  lover  of   literature, 
Inspired  and  inspiring  teacher, 
Radiant  and  responsive  friend  to  men  and  nature, 
God-loving  and  God-reflecting  man. 

But  our  words  were  few  and  simple.  Joe  Gannon's 
clear  and  reverent  "In  memory  of  Clothespins,"  as  he 
placed  a  spray  of  daisies  on  the  grave,  was  to  us  more  elo- 
quent than  eulogy  or  oration  could  possibly  have  proved. 
There  was  a  moment  of  silence.  Then,  having  honored 
our  beloved  dead,  w'e  left  the  scene  where  again  an  im- 
pressive memorial  tribute  had  added  beauty  and  strength 
to  our  reunion  days. 

Elmer  W.  Barstow. 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESS 


Rev.  Montie  J.  B.  Fuller 

I  am  under  no  illusion  as  to  why  you  thus  honor  me 
today  by  asking  me  to  talk  to  you  on  this  occasion.  It  is 
not  what  I  am  but  what  I  represent  that  causes  you  to 
ask  me  to  do  this  task. 

I  want  to  base  what  I  have  to  say  on  Paul's  letter  to 
the  Ephesians,  Chapter  three,  Verses  14  and  15.  "For  this 
cause  I  bow  my  knees  unto  the  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  of  whom  the  whole  family  in  heaven  and  earth  is 
named." 

It  is  to  me  a  joy  that  we  may  have  a  service  like  this 
for  it  shows  that  we  are  thinking  more  of  the  spiritual  side 
of  life.  And  at  no  time  in  all  the  experience  of  life  do  we 
think  about  such  things  so  much  as  when  we  gather  for  an 


27 


occasion  like  this.  The  men  that  we  love,  associated  with, 
are  no  more. 

The  cold  mysterious  shadows  flit  back  and  forth,  but 
there  is  no  sign.  As  the  years  go  by  we  shall  leave  this 
world  of  sense,  flesh  and  passion.  We  begin  to  feel  that 
this  land  possesses  a  reality  that  we  little  dreamed  of  in 
former  years. 

What  shall  we  talk  about  in  these  few  solemn  mom- 
ents? We  might  talk  about  the  life  of  these  individual 
men  and  their  virtues.  But  the  longer  I  live,  I  see  more 
clearly  that  the  individual  life  becomes  of  the  highest 
value  only  when  related  to  the  whole.  Let  no  one  talk 
about  our  virtues,  for  we  have  none  except  as  related  to 
the  whole.  I  begin  to  see  that  wisdom  of  the  Roman 
Church  when  she  takes  a  man ;  henceforward  his  identity 
is  with  the  church  and  not  with  self.  You  can  easily  see 
what  I  mean :  human  biography  traces  in  a  minute  way  the 
past  ancestors  of  a  man.  In  sacred  biography  the  prophet 
arises,  gives  his  message,  and  is  gone.  His  beginning  nor  his 
end  is  of  consequence.  In  the  national,  mass  life  we  are 
too  individualistic.  The  individual  is  of  value  only  as  he 
ministers  to  the  whole. 

This  is  the  conception  I  would  have  you  catch.  Collar, 
Eastman,  Dearborn,  our  brothers,  lived  their  lives,  but  those 
lives  became  fruitful  and  beautiful  only  as  they  were  a  part 
of  the  whole.  Collar  becomes  great  not  because  of  him- 
self alone,  but  because  he  ministered  to  the  intellectual 
life  of  man;  Eastman  becomes  great  as  he  belongs  to  the 
great  army  of  teachers;  Dearborn  as  he  belongs  to  the 
multitude  of  those  obscure  spirits  who  minister  to  loved 
ones.  You  and  I  become  great  not  as  individuals,  but  be- 
cause we  are  parts  of  a  whole. 

And  just  now  when  we  are  on  the  brink  of  fateful 
times  does  this  lesson  come  home  to  us.  Democracy  has 
won,  but  democracy  does  not  mean  extreme  individualism. 
It  means  peace  and  prosperity,  happiness  only  as  each  in- 


28 


dividual  part  is  related  rightly  to  the  whole.  And  as  we 
enter  this  era,  wonderful  era,  not  only  individuals  but  na- 
tions are  to  be  swept  into  this  world  democracy.  Nations 
are  to  be  allowed  to  express  themselves.  The  moment  is 
fateful.  There  must  something,  deep  enough  in  the  heart 
of  humanity,  be  found  that  may  be  a  common  interest 
around  which  individuals  and  nations  may  crystallize.  The 
Roman  government  hit  upon  that  common  interest  in  its 
government.  Underneath  all  the  surface  expressions  of 
society  there  runs  one  unity.  That  unity  is  religion,  wor- 
ship. Now  we  must  find  it  in  individual  family,  national 
life,  else  we  shall  build  an  imposing  structure  but  to  see  it 
fall. 

It  may  do  to  start  life. without  religion.  But  as  the 
years  come  and  go  we  see  that  we  lack  something.  We  may 
have  money,  education,  power,  but  we  feel  life  is  tasteless. 
In  some  way  that  life  without  religion  seems  to  be  turned 
aside  from  the  main  stream  of  life  and  at  last  grows  hope- 
less. 

So  with  societies  and  nations.  They  may  be  refined, 
cultured,  but  they  seem  to  lack  vitality  and  at  last  wither 
and  die.  And  so  the  world  can  be  gathered  into  one  great 
unity  only  as  it  is  unified  around  religion.  And  as  we 
stand  and  peer  into  the  shadows  where  these  dear  men  have 
gone  we  realize  this.  We  may  be  business  men,  lawyers, 
doctors,  teachers,  ministers  or  day  laborers.  When  we  seek 
to  look  beyond  we  are  all  one.  We  are  equal,  a  unit  asking 
the  same  question. 

And  of  course  the  religious  unity  is  Christian  and 
being  Christian  it  centers  around  Christ  and  the  center  of 
Christ's  ministry  is  the  cross.  If  then  we  are  going  to  make 
life  count  it  must  center  in  Christ.  And  if  the  League  of 
Nations  is  to  count  or  succeed  it  must  at  last  appeal  to  this 
deepest  note  in  the  human  life,  the  worship  of  God  in 
Christ.  Our  lives  are  but  the  expression  of  God.  The 
lives  of  those  whose  lips  are  silent  were  expressions  of 


29 


God.  It  may  have  been  conscious  or  unconscious,  but  Dear- 
born in  ministrations  to  his  mother,  Collar  as  he  ministered 
to  the  intellect,  or  Eastman  leading  minds  to  a  larger  de- 
velopment, each  expressed  God  to  the  world.  But  blessed 
is  the  life  that  may  do  it  in  full  consciousness  and  love  of 
that  larger  life  in  God. 

Brothers,  can't  we  see  that  everything  else  has  failed, — 
business,  philosophy,  science?  I  only  plead  that  we  give 
religion  a  trial.  So  from  this  hour  let  our  life  find  its  unity, 
its  expression  through  Christ.  Thus  will  life  become  a 
new,  great,  expressive  consciousness  of  a  new  power.  This 
must  be  so  in  individual  and  national  life  or  the  horrible 
tragedy  of  the  past  four  years  will  be  repeated. 


So  truly  was  the  temper  of  the  College  Baccalaureate 
service  in  accord  with  that  of  our  own  Memorial  Service 
that  we  must  step  aside  to  it  for  a  moment  with  those  of 
the  class  who  attended.  Rev.  Ozora  S.  Davis  '89  was  the 
preacher,  and  as  with  Montie,  his  theme  was  "Fellow- 
workers  with  God."  "There  is  no  chemistry,"  said  he,  "by 
which  noble  acts  can  b6  extracted  from  low  moods,  nor 
are  there  any  means  by  which  high  ideals  can  be  frustrated." 
Again,  he  said,  "The  college  invests  in  personality  and  it 
expects  dividends  on  its  investment."  Good  doctrines  surely 
for  those  solid  rows  of  clear-eyed,  clean-cut  seniors  in  their 
caps  and  gowns  to  hear.  What  dividends  from  them  in 
twenty  years?  Yes,  and  from  us — now?  In  the  midst  of 
our  lighthearted,  eager  review  of  those  June  days  let  each 
one  pause  and  answer  for  himself. 


30 


HAPPY  HILL  PICNIC 


Sunday  Afternoon,  June  22 

Near  the  top  of  the  eastern  slope  of  what  at  the  time 
appeared  to  be  one  of  the  highest,  steepest,  ruggedest,  and 
in  some  respects  the  meanest  mountain  east  of  the  Rockies 
stands  Happy  Hill  Cabin  of  the  Dartmouth  Outing  Club. 
Here  in  the  most  enchanting,  inaccessible,  and  literally 
breathless  part  of  the  mountain,  the  Class  Picnic  of  the 
20th  Reunion  was  held  on  Sunday,  June  22nd. 

It  began  in  the  morning,  very  early  in  the  morning. 
Coincident  with  the  calm  which  follows  the  last  "straw- 
berry call,"  and  just  precedes  the  coming  of  the  first  streaks 
of  light  heralding  the  dawn,  shadowy  figures  of  well  known 
'99ers,  with  townie  attendants,  were  seen  stealing  out  of 
-Hanover  piled  high  on  an  express  wagon  groaning  under 
a  huge  load  of  food,  drink  and  equipment.  The  wagon  was 
drawn  by  a  sure-footed  animal  of  the  mountain  climbing 
breed,  especially  imported  for  the  task  from  the  Grand 
Canyon.  A  wise  precaution,  as  afterward  appeared,  when 
horse  and  wagon  were  impressed  for  ambulance  service 
for  transporting  to  the  rendezvous  and  down  to  the  low- 
lands again  a  few  stout-hearted,  but  breathless  and  footsore 
pilgrims. 

All  morning  the  Ladies  Committee,  the  Executive 
Committee,  Committee  George  Clark,  Committee  George 
Snowden,  Committee  Weary  Wardle,  Smelling  Committee, 
Major  Cav.,  Major  Johnston,  and  others  too  numerous  to 
mention,  bent  their  tireless  energies  to  the  task  of  properly 
assorting,  matching,  and  mating  squads,  double  files,  single 
files,  and  unattached  'oxjers,  assigning  them  to  such  autos 
as  were  available  for  carrying  all  to  the  scene  of  the  grand 
event  of  the  day:  the  Picnic. 

Promptly  at  2  P.  M.,  we  were  off,  via  Tuck  Drive, 
the  Bridge  of  Smells,  the  broad  and  dusty  highway  to  Nor- 

31 


wich,  a  turn  to  the  left,  a  jog  to  the  right,  again  to  the  left, 
then  on  and  on,  up  and  up,  and  up  and  up,  on  high  gear, 
on  low  gear,  on  no  gear,  on  one's  nerve,  on  one's  wife's 
nerve,  on  the  nerve  of  the  fellow  ahead,  on  the  nerve  of 
the  fellow  behind,  on  foot,  on  hands  and  knees,  but  still  on- 
ward and  upward  to  the  Heaven-created,  but  man-appointed 
Spot  for  our  Picnic,  Happy  Hill  Cabin  of  pleasant  mem- 
ories. 

Such  a  trail !  From  plain  to  mountain  top  in  three, 
miles,  a  sort  of  Pike's  Peak  affair,  over  stone  ruts,  water 
bars,  grass  grown  tracks,  and,  joy  of  joys  for  the  motorists, 
an  ideal  mud  and  water  jump  with  a  beautiful  steep  bank 
and  tree  hazard  on  the  left,  or  a  skid  on  the  right,  whichever 
one  preferred.  All  combined,  gave  the  trip  to  the  rendez- 
vous just  the  element  of  varied  uncertainty  which  made 
one  marvel  at  his  own  courage  in  attempting  to  drive  it  in 
a  loaded  automobile,  but  more  at  the  persuasive  powers  of 
the  genius  who  could  convince  one  it  was  possible  and  made 
one  do  it. 

At  the  end  of  a  roadway  on  a  grassy  plateau,  the  autos 
were  parked,  or  rather  packed,  in  a  very  ingenious  way. 
By  a  deft  turn  of  the  wheel,  accompanied  by  a  full  applica- 
tion of  reverse  power,  and  the  assistance  of  two  pilots,  one 
could  turn  around  and  head  for  the  take  off. 

Here  all  halted,  until  the  last  automobile  steamed  into 
the  haven  of  refuge.  Some  few  hopeful  souls  were  looking 
about  for  the  cabin  and  the  long  anticipated  lunch.  Neither 
was  there.  Both  were  just  about  an  hour's  walk  further 
along  and  up.  So  on  and  up  we  tramped.  The  lure  of  the 
picnic  at  the  top  fired  the  pilgrims  with  a  grim  determina- 
tion to  Mount  Olympus,  and  mount  it  they  did.  Not  as  one 
man,  of  course,  nor  by  skips  and  bounds  from  crag  to  crag 
after  the  manner  of  the  wild  mountain  goat,  but  in  good 
order  and  leisurely,  as  became  serious-minded,  middle-aged 
men  and  women,  bent  on  doing  what  they  had  set  out  to  do. 
It  was  not  until  the  last  high-heeled  shoe  had  landed  its 


32 


precious  burden  on  the  grassy  slope  before  the  cabin  that 
the  pilgrims,  footsore  and  breathless,  gave  themselves  over 
to  a  silent  contemplation  of  the  grandeur  of  the  scene  which 
lay  before  them.  Some  of  course  were  seriously  concerned 
about  the  aching  void  in  their  innermost  anatomy,  and  also 
as  to  how  in  the  world  they  were  ever  going  to  get  down  to 
earth  again. 

Tasty  lunch,  plenty  of  it,  was  served  under  the  im- 
mediate direction  of  George  Clark,  assisted  by  George 
Snowden,  and  a  corps  of  volunteer  '99ers  who  waited  on 
the  ladies  and  kiddies.  It  was  just  pure  reunion,  fun,  food, 
and  friendly  social  intercourse.  A  real  picnic  out  of  doors 
on  a  delightful  June  day,  in  an  enchanting  spot,  far  from 
the  crowd,  with  everybody  in  high,  good  spirits  determined 
on  enjoying  themselves  and  all  carried  off  in  usual  '99 
fashion,  without  a  hitch  or  accident. 

Returning,  the  way  led  down  and  down,  and  down,  to 
the  valley  again.  Then  along  the  river  to  Pompanoosuc, 
across  to  Lyme,  to  Etna,  and  back  to  Hanover,  where  all 
arrived  in  due  season,  covered  with  dust,  filled  with  food, 
tired  but  happy,  and  all  agreed  that  the  Executive  Com- 
mittee had  made  event  No.  2  one  of  the  big,  long-to-be- 
remembered  events  of  the  20th  Reunion. 

Owen  A.  Hoban. 


THE  CHANTANT 


In  the  "time-table  to  the  Ninety-Nine  Vicennial"  ap- 
pears at  the  bottom  of  the  column  for  Sunday,  June  22, 
1919,  this  modest  notice:  "8.30  Chantant,  Little  Theatre, 
Robinson  Hall."  But  hidden  in  this  unobtrusive  an- 
nouncement lies  a  whole  epic  of  dreams  and  struggles  and 
ultimate  triumph.    As  George  Clark  tells  it: 


33 


"The  idea  of  'The  Chantant'  was  a  hand  down  from  the 
Quindecennial,  which  really  came  to  life  again  on  the  night 
of  November  nth,  Armistice  night,  putting  pep  right  back 
into  the  whole  notion.  We  worked  out  the  plans  by  degrees 
after  that  night.  Needless  to  say  the  final  results  were 
quite  different  in  some  cases  from  the  original  concepts. 
A  'Cafeteria  Chantant,'  a  copy  of  Pearl's  famous  food 
Cafeteria  in  Washington,  with  Bobbie  Johnston  at  the  pay- 
ing machine,  and  '99  and  a  few  friends  eating  supper  at 
round  tables  off  of  square  trays,  listening  to  a  few  stage 
stunts,  under  the  exigencies  of  Hanover  food  problems  be- 
came a  food-less  program  presented  to  a  packed  house  with 
the  standing  room  all  given  away. 

"The  history  of  the  playette  is  a  romance  of  itself. 
Only  its  author  could  do  it  justice.  It  began  way  back 
with  the  ambition  to  some  time  have  Tom  Cogswell  come 
to  a  Round-Up, — then  a  reunion,  and  impersonate  an  old 
grad.  The  part  of  the  cop  was  written  for  him,  but  ex- 
igencies arose  from  the  very  start.  First  there  was  Tom's 
travelling  in  stock  and  his  consequent  uncertainty  of  being 
able  to  appear,  and  then  the  certainty  that  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  company  had  got  to  know  just  where  that  cop 
was  going  to  stand  every  minute  he  was  on  the  stage  and 
what  he  was  going  to  do  next,  began  to  push  Tom  out  of 
it  as  an  active  participant.  But  when  we  all  got  to  Hanover 
he  did  take  a  hand  and  whip  us  into  stage  shape  and  see 
that  the  cop's  mustache  was  properly  put  on  and  that  the 
rest  of  the  cast  didn't  spill  the  whole  rouge  pot  over  their 
faces.  But  the  author  himself  under  the  necessity  of  these 
emergencies  essayed  to  fill  the  role  intended  for  Tom. 

"A  passing  criticism  from  Peddie  Miller,  who  hap- 
pened to  sit  in  at  the  first  reading  of  the  play  to  the  actors, 
helped  to  define  the  moral  at  the  end  more  sharply.  Cig 
Adams  nobly  sprang  into  the  role  assigned  to  Willis  Hodg- 
kins  upon  the  receipt  of  a  telegram  at  the  last  moment 
stating  that  Willis  was  not  on  his  way  as  supposed.  Thus 
the  playette  grew  from  a  one-man  sketch  to  a  real  morality 

34 


with  a  real  company,  including  a  real  wife  talking  as 
though  she  were  talking  to  a  real  husband. 

"Saturday  morning  was  spent  in  getting  the  scenery 
set  for  the  stage  at  Little  Theatre.  Pender  '97  kindly  got 
Hank  Noyes  and  a  bunch  of  boys  connected  with  the 
Dramatic  Club  to  do  this  for  us,  and  Dave  Storrs  and  I 
rifled  the  Beta  Frat  House  for  the  necessary  furniture. 

"Then  when  the  crowd  got  there  that  mad  procession 
of  rehearsals  started.  They  came  every  moment  the  pro- 
gram let  up  for  a  breathing  spell,  and  at  6.30  Sunday  morn- 
ing after  three  hours'  sleep  Jim  Barney  woke  up  the  actors, 
marched  them  over  to  Robinson  Hall,  and  put  them,  half 
asleep,  and  entirely  grouchy,  through  their  paces  before 
breakfast.  They  went  to  the  rehearsal,  rusty  and  creaking 
in  the  hinges.  Jim  Rich  was  already  there  snatching  back 
a  few  seconds  of  his  Sunday  morning's  sleep.  After  they 
had  been  at  it  a  little  while  Jim  was  overheard  soliloquizing, 
half-disgustedly  and  half-proudly :  'Well,  I  don't  believe 
there  were  ever  before  nine  fools  in  a  class  twenty  years 
out  that  would  get  up  at  seven  on  Sunday  morning  of 
Commencement  week  after  being  up  nearly  all  night,  to  go 
through  a  thing  like  this  !'  My  vision  of  the  reunion  is 
chiefly  taken  up  by  these  rehearsals  and  the  way  Pitt  Drew 
worked  to  put  the  play  and  Chantant  through  with  success. 
His  blue  pencil  program  on  a  piece  of  market  paper  tacked 
up  on  the  scenery  in  the  wing,  with  its  minute  directions 
with  respect  to  each  move  was  worthy  of  a  photogravure 
reproduction. 

"You  should  have  seen  the  tactful  way  in  which  Mrs. 
Hoban  and  Mrs.  Donahue  got  Donnie  and  Hobe  to  early 
dinner  Sunday  night,  and  tried  to  persuade  me,  and  how 
I  succumbed  after  Mrs.  Dave  Parker  and  two  other  ladies 
absolutely  refused  to  let  me  deposit  an  armful  of  sofa 
pillows  inside  the  Little  Theatre.  She  threw  her  form 
dramatically  before  the  door  and  said  I  would  have  to  walk 
over  her  dead  body  if  I  went  within.     Of  course  I  didn't 


35 


want  to  do  that — wouldn't  have  had  the  strength  to  bring 
it  about  if  I  did  want  to — so  I  gracefully  gave  up  the  pil- 
lows and  followed  Hobe  and  Donnie." 

Chant  ant  Program 


I.  Star  Spangled  Ban- 
ner 

II.  Illustrated  Song 
"Arcady" 

III.  Faculty   Follies — 
Reminiscences 

IV.  Grieg's       Wedding 

March 
Encore — How  Dry  I 

Am 

Ladies'   Surprise 

Song 

V.  "Ninety-Nine"  by 
C.  H.  Donahue. 
"Dartmouth     Calls" 
by  K.  Beal 

VI.  A  Four  Minute  Ad- 
dress 

VII.  "Ninety-Nine  Up  or 
Pet's  Waistcoat,"  a 
morality  playette 

VIII.  "Cheers"  by  K.  Beal 
"Cav"  by  A.  M.  Ab- 
bott 


Mrs.  Allen  at  piano 
Paul  Clark,  '19,  violin 
W.  B.  Adams,  leading 

W.  B.  Adams 

Mrs.  Kendall  at  piano 

Paul  Clark,   '19,  violin 

L.  P.  Benezet 

/ 
Mrs.  L.  P.  Winchester 


The  Ninety-Nine  Trouba- 
dours 


Pres.  E.  M.  Hopkins 

Written  for  the  occasion 
by  C.  H.  Donahue  and 
presented  by  an  all  star 
ninety-nine  cast 

The  Ninety-Nine  Trouba- 
dours 


36 


IX.  Tales     from     the  Maj.  F.  W.  Cavanaugh 

Trenches 

X.  "A  Lecture  on  Geo-  Prof.  Howie  Cann  Kilgal- 

logy"  Ion 

Robert    P.    Johnston,   Au- 
thor and   Impersonator 

XI.  Ninety-Nine     Mile-  To    have    been    given    by 

stones        illustrated  Paul    Osgood    and   par- 

with  Lantern  slides  tially    given    by    G*    G. 

Clark 

XII.  "Dartmouth,       Our  W.  B.  Adams 

Dartmouth,"      illus-  Mrs.  Kendall  at  piano 

trated  Paul  Clark,  '19,  violin 

It  would  be  impossible  to  do  full  justice  to  the  above 
remarkable  program  save  by  the  combined  services  of  vic- 
trola,  biograph,  dictograph,  and  a  volume  of  really  startling 
dimensions.  The  "Morality  Playette"  and  "A  Lecture  on 
Geology"  will  be  found  printed  entire  just  a  bit  farther  on 
in  the  Report,  together  with  a  special  criticism  of  the  play 
by  our  expert,  Professor  Jerry.  Aside  from  these  things, 
we  shall  have  to  content  ourselves  with  a  brief  epitome  of 
the  ten  other  scintillating  numbers. 

The  musical  talent  displayed  by  the  Class  and  the 
Class  wives  and  friends  stands  out  all  through  the  list  of 
attractions  offered.  Mrs.  Allen  and  Mrs.  Kendall,  as  ac- 
companists, Mrs.  Winchester  as  piano  soloist,  Win  Adams 
as  vocal  soloist  and  Troubadour  leader,  the  Troubadours 
themselves,  all  received  and  deserved  liberal  applause.  The 
voluntary  assistance  of  Paul  Clark  '19  as  violinist  was  es- 
pecially appreciated.  Those  present  will  be  interested  in 
the  fact  that  the  Executive  Committee  later  presented  him 
with  an  attractive  mug  as  an  expression  of  their  gratitude. 
There  is  in  the  '99  files  a  cordial  note  in  return  in  which  he 
insists  that  he  had  been  "already  amply  repaid  by  enjoying 


37 


the  fun  and  rare  spirit  of  that  Sunday  night."  The  songs 
on  the  program  had  all  been  sung  of  course  in  the  "Hum" 
on  Massachusetts  Porch  and  in  Long  Jim's  Dungeon  the 
night  before, — all  except  one, — the  "Ladies'  Surprise  Song." 

This  ditty  was  composed,  so  nearly  as  can  be  ascer- 
tained on  Sunday  afternoon  by  Mrs.  Peddie  Miller,  re- 
hearsed in  secret,  and  unannounced  on  any  program,  but 
"sprung"  on  the  Committee  and  audience  by  the  neatest  of 
devices.  For  when  Mrs.  Winchester  after  a  notable  ren- 
dering of  Grieg's  Wedding  March  returned  as  was  supposed 
to  give  an  encore,  she  struck  her  listeners  dumb  by  striking 
the  opening  chords  of  "How  Dry  I  Am."  Then  a  chuckle 
passed  around,  followed  immediately  by  more  amazement, 
for  forty  ladies  (the  very  cream  of  the  audience,  be  it  said, 
with  all  due  respect  to  other  visitors)  arose  in  their  places 
and  proceeded  to  "line  up"  in  front  of  the  stage  with  ex- 
pressions ranging  from  most  ingenuously  innocent  to  most 
tantalizingly  suggestive. 

Another  chord.  The  impromptu  chorus  assumed  dig- 
nity and  poise,  Mrs.  Peddie  stepped  a  bit  out  from  the  line 
to  mark  the  time,  and  this  is  what  we  heard,  to  the  tune  of 
"There  were  ninety  and  nine." 


Ninety  and  Nine 

There  were  ninety  and  nine  of  the  nicest  men 

Who  called  us  to  Dartmouth  green; 

And  they  were  the  very  smartest  men 

The  college  has  ever  seen. 

Over  the  mountains  and  through  the  plain 

Their  call  kept  coming  again  and  again, 

Their  call  kept  coming  again  and  again, 

And  it  brought  us  out  of  the  East  and  the  West 

To  the  college  we  love  the  best. 


38 


They  gave  us  candy  and  shows  and  sings 

And  all  sorts  of  other  things, 

And  they  gave  us  teas  and  mountain  breeze, 

And  sunshine  in  campus  and  trees. 

So  here  is  our  thanks  for  all  the  fun 

They  have  filled  in  the  day  from  sun  to  sun. 

So  here  we  sing  to  the  magic  three, 

The  three  times  three  and  three  times  three. 

That  makes  the  glorious  ninety-nine, 

The  class  that  is  so  FINE. 

,But  we  must  proceed  in  some  order.  There  was  the 
sudden  display  of  a  big  American  flag  on  the  stage  in  the 
beginning  as  Field  Marshal  Joe  Gannon  welcomed  the 
Faculty  and  other  reuning  classes  and  summoned  them  to 
sing  the  National  Anthem.  Then  there  was  Win  Adams 
with  that  classic  song  of  his  and  George  Clark's  "Arcady." 
And  Bennie  overflowed  with  more  of  his  sparkling  rem- 
iniscences,— this  time  aptly  headlined  as  "Faculty  Follies," 
at  which  the  befooled  Faculty  laughed  as  heartily  as  any. 
Look  ahead  a  few  pages  and  you  will  find  Bennie's  letter 
about  it. 

While  the  Troubadours  were  singing  "Ninety-Nine" 
and  "Old  Dartmouth  Calls"  the  Executive  Committee  and 
the  Marshal  were  in  a  state  approaching  nervous  prostration 
at  the  non-arrival  of  Prexy  Hopkins.  But  as  the  last  echo 
of  the  Troubadours  died  away  in  he  strode,  nonchalantly 
enough,  from  the  organ  recital,  calmly  said,  "Sure,"  to  Joe's 
tense  "Ready?"  and  while  Jerry  showed  Mrs.  Hopkins  to  a 
seat,  stepped  up  on  the  stage.  He  spoke  warmly  of  the  way 
the  reunion  classes  were  standing  for  the  best  in  Dartmouth's 
traditions  and  ideals  and  blazing  new  paths  of  service  for 
the  College.  And  the  cordial  slogan  with  which  he  closed, 
"None  more  than  Ninety-Nine,"  brought  a  cheer. 

As  for  the  Playette  you  must  read  for  yourself  the 
author's  copy  and  Jerry's  critique  before  mentioned  to  get 
even  the  faintest  conception  of  the  stir  it  made.     It  was 


39 


without  question  one  of  the  happiest  crosses  between  fact 
and  fancy  ever  devised,  as  subtle  and  delightful  a  human 
compound  as  the  evasive  humour  of  its  author.  Called  to 
the  front  of  the  stage  at  the  curtain  drop  by  the  "Author! 
Author !"  shouts  of  the  delirious  audience,  he  took  with  an 
air  of  meek  humility  what  he  innocently  claimed  to  be  the 
indignant  shrieks  of  "Awful !  Awful !" 

Yet  after  this  climax  of  appeal  the  Committee's  re- 
sourceful program  reminded  one  of  a  journey  through  the 
wonders  of  a  vast  Rocky  Mountain  region,  where  every 
corner-turn  reveals  unthought-of  marvels. 

So  came  now  the  Troubadours  again, 

"We're  singing,  we're  singing,  with  all  the  love  we  have, 
Just  hear  his  old  friends  calling,  Dear  Old  Cav." 

And  just  as  had  been  the  case  the  previous  night  in 
Long  Jim's  '99  cellar,  so  now,  the  deep  and  genuine  feeling 
which  Pap  had  put  into  his  song  when  he  composed  it 
months  before  on  the  news  of  Cav's  desperate  wound 
gripped  singers  and  listeners  alike. 

But  Cav  relieved  at  once  the  tension  which  deep  feeling 
provokes  by  announcing  that  he  was  under  contract  to 
say  nothing  serious  whatsoever.  And  so  in  happy  vein  he 
delivered  a  regular  machine  gun  fusillade  of  yarns,  every 
one  with  a  bright  spot.  There  was  the  stalwart,  self-called 
"conscienceless  objector"  whose  prejudices  were  tactfully 
overruled  by  giving  him  a  gun  and  leaving  the  use  of  it  to 
his  judgment  when  he  found  himself  at  the  front.  And 
there  was  the  darkey  soldier  "over  there"  who  was  asked 
what  he  would  do  if  he  found  himself  unexpectedly  in  the 
thick  of  a  heavy  artillery  engagement.  "Well,"  said  he,  "if 
the  first  shell  misses,  all  the  rest  will  fall  short!" 

The  counterpart  of  this  tale  was  this  same  darkey's 
inquiry  of  his  former  interlocutor:  "And  what  will  you  do 
if  you  hear  that  ten  thousand  Germans  are  headed  your 
way  with  bayonets  fixed?" 


40 


"Do  ?  Why,  I  shall  certainly  think  it  my  duty  to  spread 
the  news  broadcast  through  France." 

And  so  twenty  other  anecdotes  as  good. 

But  we  must  pass  to  Prof.  Howie  Cann  Kilgallon  with 
his  "Lecture"  on  Geology."  The  author  of  the  lecture,  and 
the  impersonator  of  the  professor,  needless  to  say  was  our 
own  inimitable  Bob,  now  a  long-cloaked,  bewhiskered,  be- 
nevolent old  investigator,  with  ingratiating  manners  and  a 
table  full  of  priceless  relics  whose  likes  are  not  to  be  found 
elsewhere  in  the  world.  During  his  lecture  the  audience 
doubled  up  (not  in  numbers,  for  the  hall  was  already 
packed)  but  with  the  fun  of  it,  and  spasms  of  laughter  ran 
around  the  room  like  windshadows  chasing  each  other  over 
a  squally  lake. 

It  is  getting  to  be  a  fact  that  no  Dartmouth  crowd  can 
get  together  nowadays  without  one  of  '99's  picture  talks. 
Paul  Osgood  was  to  have  given  the  talk  this  time,  but  since 
he  was  nursing  a  crippled  auto  near  Boston,  it  became  an- 
other case  of  the  famous  "Let  George  do  it."  The  hour 
was  late  and  George  shut  his  eyes  to  some  of  the  "mile- 
stones" and  his  ears  to  the  protests  of  his  listeners.  But  in 
turn,  after  Bob's  "Professor  Spiel"  will  be  found  the  full  set 
of  live  comments  as  originally  planned  on  the  selected  one 
hundred  and  one  pictures  that  were  to  be  displayed. 

Finally,  with  a  new   illustrated   rendering   of   "Dart- 
mouth, Our  Dartmouth,"  the  most  notable  of  '99's  always 
ambitious  programs  came  to  a  close.    The  words 
"Thine  is  a  noble  site, 
Hill,  wood  and  stream  unite 
To  grace  the  scene"  and 
"Men  come  with  autumn's  glow, 
Men  work  through  winter's   snow, 
Men  proud,  like  Spring,  to  show 
Thy  color  green" 
gave  the  slide  makers  ample  chance  for  picturesque  illus- 
tration.    And  the  new  version  leaped  at  once  in  popular 
approval  to  a  place  beside  Arcady. 


41 


NINETY     NINE     UP 


or 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  WAISTCOAT 


A  Morality  Playette  in  One  Act 


TIME:     Sunday  Morning  of   1919  Commencement. 

PLACE:     Room   19,   Second   Floor,   Middle   Massachu- 
setts Hall. 


THE  CAST 

John  W.  Smith. 

Pormerly  called  Buck  Smith,  of  the  Class  of 
IS '7 '4,  who  nurses  a  4.5-y  ears-old  grouch  against 
all  things  Dartmouth.  He  believes  that  there  is 
no  such  thing  as  class  spirit.  He  has  made  a  lot 
of  money,  but  hasn't  had  time,  as  he  thinks,  for 
things  like  sentiment.  A  hardheaded,  narrow, 
testy  old  codger  who,  in  scooping  in  the  coin,  has 
missed  the  finer  things  of  life.  He's  a  pretty 
old  dog  to  learn  new  tricks  but  he  isn't  beyond 
salvation,  nobody  is  for  that  matter,  and  if  he 
had  a  chance  to  see  things  right,  might  possibly 
discover  that  he  has  a  heart  and  become  a  regu- 
lar fellow.  So  don't  be  surprised  if  he  wakes  up 
and  discovers  that  there  isn't  any  more  wonder- 
ful thing  in  the  world  than  the  spirit  of  a  good 
Dartmouth  Class.    We  can't  give  the  whole  thing 


42 


away  right  here  at  the  beginning,  it  isn't  done 
by  our  best  dramatists,  but  it  might  pay  you  to 
keep  an  eye  on  him. 

Mr.  James  Leonard  Barney. 

Jerry  Jones. 

Also  of  the  class  of  18/4.  A  Dartmouth  en- 
thusiast, strong  in  class  spirit.  He  hasn't  salted 
away  as  many  hard,  dollars  as  his  classmate 
Smith  but  he  has  stored  up  barnsful  of  happiness 
from  his  class  association.  It  has  been  a  great 
big  thing  in  his  life,  something  that  has  grown 
along  with  him  from  youth  to  old  age,  and  will 
be  with  him  till  he  dies.  He  is  a  fine  mellow* 
old  boy  and  it's  too  bad  you  can't  know  him  bet- 
ter, but  he  isn't  the  hero  of  this  particular  drama. 

Mr.  George  Gallup  Clark. 

Robby  Robinson  '99. 

So  extremely  married  that  he  is  called  "Pet" 
by  his  wife,  but,  or  therefore,  expecting  to  have 
the  time  of  his  life  while  attending  his  20th  re- 
union without  her.  When  he  was  in  College  he 
was,  well,  a  little  lively,  but  since  his  marriage 
six  years  ago  he  has  become  thoroughly  halter 
broke.  You  know  after  six  years  of  continuous 
honeymoon  a  man  is  apt  to  be  a  little  dizzy 
when  alone  on  a  vacation,  but  there's  no  real 
harm  in  him.  He's  the  kind  of  fellow  that's  al- 
ways getting  into  a  scrape  but  somehow  or  other 
always  getting  out.  As  we  said  before  it  isn't 
quite  the  thing  to  tip  you  off  as  to  what's  coming, 
but  this  isn't  a  regular  professional  show  and 
we  don't  mind  telling  you  now,  that,  though 
things  may  look  pretty  tough  for  him  at  times 
he'll  come  out  all  right.     This  is  a  they-all-lived- 


43 


happy-ever-after  play,  like  all  plays  that  are  any 
good.  You  zvould  guess,  anyway,  that  it  is  go- 
ing to  end  happily  and  we  make  no  bones  of 
telling  you  so. 

Mr.  Owen  Albert  Hoban. 

Mrs.  Robinson. 

Robby's  wife.  ■  Unexpectedly  detained  at  home 
by  the  illness  of  her  mother,  and  regretfully  ob- 
liged to  let  her  husband  go  to  the  reunion  alone, 
the  first  time  they  have  been  separated  since  their 
wedding  day.  But  she  manages  to  arrive  in  Han- 
over later  and  complicates  matters.  This  whole 
mix-up,  we  prophesy,  is  going  to  do  her  a  lot  of 
good.  She  thinks  she  doesn't  care  for  '99  but 
may  be  thafs  because  she's  a  little  jealous  of  it. 
Like  very  many  things  in  life  it's  because  she 
don't  know  the  class  that  she  don't  care  for 
it.  The  fundamental  thing  in  the  philosophy  of 
the  class  is  that  if  you  know  men  well,  you  will 
like  them,  that  is,  most  men.  The  class  union 
makes  the  men  know  each  other  well  and  when 
they  do  that  why  they  can't  help  sort  of — well, — 
liking  each  other.  Of  course  Mrs.  Robinson 
doesn't  get  all  of  this  but  she  gets  a  pretty  fair 
idea  of  it  as  this  play  goes  on. 

Mrs.  Mabel  Swain  Drew. 

Hen  Sargent. 

Hanover  Chief  of  Police,  and  one-half  the  en- 
tire constabulary  of  the  town.  An  old  subscriber 
to  the  Old  Sleuth  Library,  a  little  too  anxious 
perhaps  to  stick  to  the  exact  text.  Despite  his 
high  official  position  he  is  still  a  typical  towny. 
He  looks  upon  a  stoodent  as  7/9  child  and  1/9 
devil,  remaining  1/9  unclassified.    A  member  of 


44 


the  faculty  he  looks  upon  as  absolutely  harmless, 
a  bit  eccentric,  not  entirely  human  but  yet  en- 
titled to  a  certain  amount  of  respect.  The  only 
authority  on  earth  that  he  recognizes  is  the  Board 
of  Selectmen. 

Mr.  Charles  Henry  Donahue. 

The  Waistcoat. 

Made  for  Robinson  by  his  wife  with  her  own 
hands.  She  is  color  blind.  It  is  a  hideous  en- 
semble of  insulting  reds  and  abnormal  greens. 
It  is  worn  by  him.,  at  least  it  is  supposed  to  be 
zvorn  by  him,  in  accord  with  a  solemn  promise 
made  on  leaving  home  as  a  token  of  his  fealty 
and  love. 

Tim  Lynch. 

A  Ninety-niner.  Just  as  natural  as  life,  in  re- 
union tall  hat  and  duster. 

Mr.  Theobald  Andrew  Lynch. 

Cigarette  Adams.   ] 

Another  Ninety-niner,  more  natural  if  possible 
than  Tim.  Likewise  proudly  wears  '99  duster 
and  hat. 

Mr.  Winburn  Bowdoin  Adams. 

Prof.  Richardson. 

Jim  himself.  First,  last  and  all  times  a  '99 
man.  Incidentally  a  Professor  of  Law.  Dressed 
in  the  inevitable  '99  duster  and  tall  hat. 


A  Voice. 


Mr.  James  Parmelee  Richardson. 

This  is  Pitt  Drew's,  and  only  appears,  or,  is 

45 


heard,  rather,  once.  The  rest  of  the  time  the 
voice  will  be  pretty  busy  from  the  prompter's  box, 
but  the  audience  is  supposed  to  hear  it  only  once. 

The  Stage. 

A  student's  room  in  Middle  Massachusetts 
Hall.  Walls  adorned  according  to  conception  of 
the  Artists  who  draw  for  Judge  and  Life,  with 
College  banners,  stolen  sign  boards,  "3  miles  to 
Skunk  Hollow/'  "This  way  to  the  Zoo,"  "No 
Trespassing"  etc.,  etc.  Rear  wall  has  two  win- 
dows, opening  on  lawn,  and  a  window  seat.  Door 
at  left  leading  from  corridor.  Door  at  right 
leading  to  the  bedroom.  Chair,  Table  Piano,  etc. 
Hat  tree  in  rear  at  left.  A  coiled  rope  fire  escape 
hangs  conspicuously  at  right  of  window. 

The  Curtain.  <  . 

Rising  discloses  Robinson  sleeping  on  couch. 
Coat  and  shoes  off  but  otherwise  fully  dressed. 
The  Waistcoat  looms  up  like  a  lighthouse  in  a 
fog.  One  shoe  on  table,  other  carefully  hung 
on  hat  tree.  Hat  on  chair.  He  is  sleeping  like 
a  man  who  turned  in  very,  very  late;  like  a  man 
who  perhaps  cannot  remember  in  the  morning 
every  single  thing  which  happend^  the  night  be- 
fore but  yet  knozvs  that  he  had  a  very  nice  time, 
different  dont  you  know,  than  he  has  had  for 
some  years  past. 


Smith. 


His  voice  is  heard  in  the  corridor  indistinctly 
grumbling  at  Jones  before  you  see  him,  but  final- 
ly you  hear  him  say : — 

"No,  Siree,  I  am  not  glad  to  be  in  Hanover 
again.     {They  enter,  Smith  dressed  in  auto  dus- 


46 


ter,  cap  and  goggles.  Jones  attired  like  any  old 
fellow  4-5  years  out  of  college.  Robinson  con- 
tinues to  sleep.)  You've  made  me  break  the  vow 
I  swore  at  our  Commencement  45  years  ago  nev- 
er to  set  foot  in  Hanover  again.  I  drove  around 
Hanover  on  purpose  and  if  my  machine  hadn't 
had  that  accident  in  Norwich  and  hurt  my  ankle 
and  if  you  hadn't  come  along  and  dragged  me 
over  here,  I  would  now  be  perfectly  happy.  Han- 
over !  Bah !  I  hate  the  place.  You  say  the 
bank  was  robbed  last  night.  I'm  surprised  that 
any  decent  burglar  would  come  to  a  town  like 
this."  {He  limps  a  little.  He  is  thoroughly  dis- 
gusted and  evidently  intends  to  remain  so.  He 
plants  himself  in  arm  chair  at  left  front  of  stage 
and  stays  there  most  of  the  time  throughout  the 
play.  Pretty  soon  Jones,  too,  sits  down  in  a 
chair  at  the  right  front  of  stage  and  stays  there. 
(You  see  Smith  and  Jones  are  really  an  audience 
before  whom  the  action  of  the  play  takes  place 
just  as  much  as  the  real  audience.  It  is  hoped 
that  Jones,  as  the  play  goes  on,  may  be  able,  by 
his  own  expressions  of  approval  when  the  actors 
are  hitting  the  high  spots  to  bluff  the  real  audi- 
ence into  applauding  a  little.  Of  course  that's 
a  pretty  forlorn  hope,  but  there  doesn't  seem  to 
be  any  harm  in  giving  it  a  try.) 


Jones. 


Smith. 


(Both  timidly  and  beamingly  at  the  same  time  ) 
— "At  any  rate  you'll  be  glad  to  meet  the  fifteen 
men  back  from  our  dear  old  class  of  '74." 


"Dear  old  class  of  '74  be  hanged!  What  did 
the  dear  old  class  ever  do  for  you- or  for  me  or 
for  anyone  else?   You  are  as  big  a  fool  as  ever, 


47 


Jones. 


Smith. 


Robinson. 


Jerry.     Still  making  believe,  still  dreaming  there 
is  such  a  thing  as  class  spirit,  I  suppose." 


(Gently  but  with  resolution.) — "I'm  not 
dreaming,  Buck.  There  is  such  a  thing  and  it's 
one  of  the  greatest  things  in  the  world." 

''The  silliest  thing  in  the  world !  You  remem- 
ber how  I  called  down  our  class  at  our  Com- 
mencement dinner  for  the  tobacco  smoking,  to- 
bacco chewing,  worldly  minded,  frivolous  young 
men  they  were.  You  know  how  they  jeered  at 
my  motion  to  substitute  sweet  fern  for  tobacco 
at  the  silly  pipe  smoking  at  the  old  pine.  I  said 
then  and  I  say  now,  that  the  only  class  spirit 
there  is,  is  the  spirit  of  silly  evil  and  unprofitable 
iniquity.  It's  all  tommy  rot."  (Jones  starts  to 
reply  but  seeing  Smith's  attitude  of  finality, 
pauses  to  select  precisely  the  right  words  to  re- 
sume the  discussion  in  order  not  to  irritate 
Smith  further.) 

(He  has  stirred  once  or  twice  uneasily,  but 
Smith's  voice,  which  has  been  raised  in  the  last 
tirade  wakes  him  more.  He  thinks  he  recog- 
nizes the  conventional  conclusion  of  a  curtain 
lecture  by  his  beloved  wife  and  half  awake  says 
conventionally  and  sleepily  and  deprecatingly.) 
"Very  well,  Lucy  dear,  very  well."  (Smith  and 
Jones  observe  Robinson  for  the  first  time  and  he 
sees  them.) 

(Rising.) — "Oh,  I  beg  pardon,  I  thought  for 
a  minute  that  I  was  back  home."  (Rubs  his  eyes, 
and  automatically  seeks  the  consolation  of '  a 
cigarette.) 


48 


Smith. 

(After  slowly  surveying  with  increasing  dis- 
approval the  shoe  on  the  table,  the  shoe  on  the 
hat-rack,  the  hat  on  the  floor,  the  vest  and  the 
cigarette  which  Robinson  is  lighting,  looks  at 
Jones  and  says  sarcastically.) — "Class  spirit !" 
(From  now  on  Smith  at  every  opportunity,  and 
he  has  a  lot  of  them,  gives  visible  and  audible  in- 
dication of  his  hatred  of  cigarettes.) 

Robinson. 

(Enthusiastically ,  not  noticing  the  sarcasm.) — 
"Isn't  it  great!  I  haven't  been  so  happy  for  five 
years.  It's  like  going  to  heaven  to  come  back 
here  with  '99,  nly  class  you  know." 


Jones. 


"We're — that  is,  I'm  '74.    I  seem  to  have  been 
assigned  a  room  in  the  '99  dormitory." 


Robinson. 

"That's  all  right.  Glad  to  have  you  here.  My 
name's  Robinson.  (They  shake  hands.  Smith 
ignores  them.)— Nobody  ever  had  a  better  time 
than  I  had  last  night,  that  is,  so  much  of  it  as  I 
can  remember.  Oh,  Boy!  What  a  night! — 
(Recollects  himself  and  says  somewhat  hypo- 
critically.) But  of  course  I'm  sorry  my  wife 
isn't  here.  She's  never  been  in  Hanover.  Don't 
think  much  of  Dartmouth  or  the  Class.  She  was 
all  ready  to  come  this  time  when  her  mother  was 
taken  sick."  ' 

Jones. 

(Dryly,  taking  the  shoe  from  the  table  and 
handing  it  to  Robinson.) — "Perhaps  it's  all  for 
the  best."     (He  stares  at  the  vest.) 


49 


Robinson. 


Smith. 


"My  wife  is  the  finest  woman  in  the  world  but — 
I  see  you're  looking  at  my  vest.  She  made  it; 
every  stitch  of  it.  But  she's  color  blind.  (Sits 
on  couch  to  put  on  shoes.)  She  made  me  promise 
that  I'd  wear  it  every  minute  while  I  was  away. 
(Sentimentally.)  Made  by  her,  to  wear  next  my 
heart  all  the  time,  you  know.  (Proudly.)  Just 
like  dear  Lucy !  I  wouldn't  have  her  see  me  with- 
out it  for  the  world,  no,  sir,  not  for  ten  worlds.' 
But  {rising,  takes  off  vest)  as  long  as  she  isn't 
here  there's  no  harm  in  my  leaving  it  off  till  I 
start  home.  I  wouldn't  hurt  her  feelings — but  be- 
tween you  and  me  it  is  a  bit  loud.  I'd  be  a  happy 
man  if  my  wife  wasn't  color  blind  and  if  she 
knew  and  loved  Dartmouth  College  and  the  Class 
of  '99  as  I  do.  I  guess  I'll  wash  up."  (Hangs  up 
vest  on  hat  rack  and  goes  through  bedroom  door 
at  right.) 


"His  wife  is  a  smart  woman  in  some  ways  if 
she  does  have  such  poor  taste  in  picking  waist- 
coats and  husbands." 


Jones. 


Smith. 


"Let  me  take  your  coat,  Buck."  (Hangs  it  up 
on  hat-rack  over  the  waistcoat.  This  calls  for 
great  artistry  and  delicate  nuances  of  expression 
on  the  part  of  Jones.  The  audience  must  ap- 
preciate that  covering  the  Waistcoat  is  important, 
and  yet  Jones  shouldn't  go  at  the  job  like  a  bull 
at  a  bridge.) 

"I'm  not  going  to  stay  here  very  long.  It 
makes  me  mad  to  see  the  fool  stunts  of  the  alum- 
ni.    They  act  like  boys." . 


50 


Jones. 

"They  are  boys  when  they  get  back  to  Han- 
over." (Smith  still  snorting  with  disgust  over 
the  last  remark  when  Lynch  and  Adams  enter 
briskly  through  door  at  left  and  look  about  the 
room.  They  ought,  if  they  can,  to  look  kind  of 
anxious,  because  as  matter  of  fact  they  know 
Robinson  is  apt  to  get  into  trouble  about  the  oc- 
currences of  the  night  before.) 

Tim  Lynch. 

"Is  Robinson  '99  here?" 


Jones. 


Smith. 


Cop. 


"He's  in  there."  (pointing  to  bedroom.)  (En- 
ter Cop  through  door  at  left,  looks  around  the 
room  with  insufferable  air  of  omniscience.  Ex- 
amines rug  with  large  magnifying  glass.  Looks 
under  window  seat.  Lifts  table  scarf  up  and 
looks  under.  Manoeuvres  to  see  waistcoats  of 
others.  Humming  all  the  while,  out  of  tune, 
"Sweet  Marie/'  Looks  everywhere  except  hat- 
rack.  All  watch  him  for  a  while  as  he  applies 
the  approved  methods  of  a  stagy  stage  detective. 
Tim  and  Cig  are  obviously  worried.) 


(Testily,  with  a  subconscious  reversion  to  antip- 
athy of  undergraduate  days.) — "Well!  Well! 
Since  when  did  townies  come  snooping  around 
the  college  dormitories?" 


(Offensively.) — "Official  business,  old  boy,  of- 
ficial business !"  (Throws  lapel  of  coat  back  and 
shows  big  shiny  star.) 


51 


Smith. 


Cop. 


{More  irritated.} — "What     are    you,     a    tin 
peddler  ?,; 


"I'm  the  Hanover  Chief  of  Police.  I  have 
orders  from  Selectman  Tibbetts  to  go  through 
all  the  students'  rooms." 

Cig  Adams. 

(Ingratiatingly .) — "What's  the  trouble,  chief  ?" 
(Robinson  has  come  to  door  with  towel  wiping 
face  and  listens;  at  first  smiling,  gradually 
changing  to  an  expression  of  alarm.) 

Cop. 

(In  best  official  manner.) — "At  2.23  A.  M.  this 
morning  the  Hanover  National  Bank  was  burg- 
larized. (Tim  calls  Jones  aside  and  whispers  to 
him.  Jones  points  to  hat  rack.  If  this  is  cutely 
done  and  the  audience  is  not  by  this  time  asleep, 
it  is  hoped  they  will  understand  that  Jones  is 
telling  Tim  that  the  vest  is  on  the  hat-rack.)  Yes, 
sir,  the  bank  was  robbed  and  $20,000  taken.  The 
police  now  have  the  matter  well  in  hand.  The 
entire  force  is  at  work.  The  two  of  us  have  been 
busy  all  morning  and  I  expect  shortly  to  have  an 
interesting  announcement  to  make  to  the  press." 

Cig  Adams. 

(Anxiously.) — "Do  you  suspect  any  one?" 


Cop. 


"You  bet!  The  robber  was  seen  leaving  the 
premises  by  Joe  Filio  and  the  Precinct,  and  the 
public  may  rest  assured  that  this  desperate  crim- 
inal will  soon  be  in  the  Grafton  County  Jail. 
(Confidentially.)  We  have  a  clue."  (All  except 
Robinson  crowd  around  the  Cop.) 


52 


Cig  Adams. 


Cop. 


Smith. 


Cop. 


Smith. 


Jones. 


(Giving  cop  a  cigar  to  get  some  more  dope.) — 
"Fine  work,  Chief." 

(Tucking  away  the  cigar  with  the  ease  and 
aplomb  which  officers  of  the  law  acquire.) — 
"Not  bad.  (Confidentially.)  The  robber  wore  a 
red  vest  with  green  stripes."  (Robinson  leans 
for  an  instant  against  the  door  jamb  for  support. 
Looks  longingly  toward  the  hat  rack  which  is  out 
of  his  reach.  Goes  back  hurriedly  into  bedroom. 
Tim  steps,  protectingly,  over  to  hat  tree.) 

(Eagerly.) — "What  kind  of  stripes?" 

"Don't  worry,  old  man,  I  looked  at  your  vest 
the  first  thing  when  I  came  in."  (Cop  flicks 
imaginary  bit  of  dust  off  his  coat  sleeve,  and 
gives  various  indications  of  being  perfectly  satis- 
fied with  himself.) 

(Rising.) — "A  red  vest  with  green  stripes! 
Well  you  came  to  the  right  place."  (Jones,  Tim, 
and  Cig  surround  Smith  and  try  to  silence  him. 
Robinson  sneaks  in,  and  takes  rope  fire  escape 
into  bedroom.  It  is  perfectly  plain  to  anyone  in 
the  audience  but  a  darn  fool  that  he  proposes  to 
go  out  the  bedroom  window  and  down  the  rope.) 

"Sit  down,  Buck,  you'll  hurt  your  ankle." 
(Pushes  him  down  in  chair.) 


Cig  Adams. 

(To  cop.)— "He's  a  little  off,  poor  fellow.    Al- 
ways was."  (Smith  glares  at  him.) 


53 


Jones. 
Cop. 

Smith. 

Cop. 


Smith. 


Jones. 


(Taps  his  head,  sympathetically.) 

(Breaking  through  the  others.) — "In  the  name 
of  the  Law!  (To  Smith.)  Where  is  he?" 

(Tries  to  speak  while  others  boo  him  down. 
Manages  to  point  to  the  bedroom.) 

(Rushes  into  bedroom,  stays  long  enough  for 
Tim  conspicuously  to  take  the  waistcoat  from 
the  hat  tree  and  tuck  it  under  his  coat,  and  then 
dashes  out  again.) — "He's  gone  out  the  window 
and  down  a  rope.  By  heck  I'll  catch  him  yet." 
(Hurries  out  the  door  at  left.) 

(To  Jones  and  Cig.) — "Why  did  you  try  to 
stop  me  telling  about  that  criminal  ?" 


(Surprised  at  the  question.) — "Why  he  is  a 
Dartmouth  man." 


Cig  Adams. 


'Besides  that,  he's  a  '99  man." 


Smith. 


(Really  surprised.) — "Would  you  protect  him 
from  the  police  because  he  is  a  '99  man?" 


Cig  Adams. 


"Of  course!  I  don't  think  he  meant  to  take 
the  money.  But  he  certainly  acted  a  little  strange 
last  night.  You  remember  (to  Tim)  how  he  in- 
sisted on  doing  a  dance  on  the  roof  of  Mus- 
grove's  block." 


54 


Tim  Lynch. 

"Yes.  And  that  was  odd  the  way  he  tried  to 
get  in  a  window  at  the  post-office,  saying  he 
wanted  to  cash  a  check." 

Robinson. 

(Rushes  in  from  door  at  left  leading  from  cor- 
ridor with  telegraph  blank  in  his  hand.  Dashes 
over  to  the  hat  tree  and  sees  vest  gone.) — 
"Where  is  the  vest  that  I  promised  my  dear  wife 
I  wouldn't  take  off?" 

Tim  Lynch. 

(Who  took  it  a  while  ago,  after  looking  care- 
fully at  hat  tree.) — "It  doesn't  seem  to  be  there." 

Robinson. 

"This  is  terrible."     (Hands  telegram  to  Tim.) 
Tim  Lynch. 

(Reading.)— "Dear  Pet." 

Robinson. 

(Grmns.)—  "That's  me." 

Tim  Lynch. 

(Continues  reading.) — "Dear  Pet,  Mother  bet- 
ter.   Will  be  in  Hanover  Sunday  morning. 

Lucy." 

Cig  Adams. 

"Cheer  up  old  fellow.  The  cop  hasn't  got  you 
yet." 

Tim  Lynch. 

"No  and  he  hasn't  caught  you  with  the  red 
and  green  vest  on  either." 

Robinson. 

(Desperately.)— "I  wouldn't  care  if  the  cop 
did  catch  me  with  the  vest  on.  What  worries  me 
is  that  my  wife  may  catch  me  with  the  vest  off." 


55 


Tim  Lynch. 

(Who  has  been  at  window.) — "The  cop  is  com- 
ing.   Hide." 

Robinson. 

(Calmly.) — "Let  him  come.  He  might  help 
me  to  find  the  vest." 

Voice. 

(From  outside.) — "Oh  Robby,  Mrs.  Robinson 
is  here."  (Rdbinson  looks  like  a  rabbit  a  jump 
and  a  half  ahead  of  the  hound.) 

Tim  Lynch. 

(Looking  out.) — "She's  coming  all  right." 
(Robinson  who  has  been  undisturbed  on  hearing 
of  the  cop's  advent  registers  extreme  fear  on 
learning  that  his  dear  wife  approaches  and  rushes 
madly  into  the  bedroom.) 

Cig  Adams. 

(Who  has  followed  him  to  the  bedroom  door, 
reports.) — "He's  gone  down  the  rope  again." 

Tim  Lynch. 

(Hastily,  putting  on  vest.) — "That  cop  will  be 
here  in  a  minute.  I'm  going  to  put  on  the  darned 
old  vest  and  let  him  take  me." 

Cig  Adams. 

"No,  let  me  do  it.    I  look  more  like  a  burglar." 

Tim  Lynch. 

"Not  on  your  life,  I  saw  it  first."  (Puts  it  on. 
Smith  watches  this  with  dawning  appreciation 
or  something  like  that). 

Mrs.  Robinson. 

(Enters  through  door  at  left.) — "Is  this  Mr. 
Robinson's  room?" 


56 


Cig  Adams. 

(After  a  pause,  brazenly  in  the  hopes  of  get- 
ting rid  of  her.) — "No  ma'am.  There's  no  Mr. 
Robinson  here." 

Mrs.  Robinson. 

"But  I  was  told  this  was  his  room.  (Looking.) 
and  there's  his  bag.  He  must  have  been  here  and 
gone." 


Smith. 


Cop. 


(Maliciously.) — "He's  gone  all  right  and  with- 
out his  vest." 


(Enters  and  hearing  the  word  "vest"  suspic- 
iously.)— "Where  is  the  man  with  the  vest?"^ 

Mrs.  Robinson. 

"What  do  you  want  him  for?" 

Cop. 

"Because  he  robbed  the  bank,  by  Gravy !  That's 
why  I  want  him." 

Mrs.  Robinson. 

(Looking  wildly  around,  sees  Tim  who  is  os- 
tentatiously dismaying  the  vest.) — "There's  a 
man  with  my  husband's  vest  on.  {Continuing 
with  true  feminine  intuitive  logic.)  He  must  have 
killed  Clarence,  stolen  his  vest  and  robbed  the 
bank." 

Cop. 

(Dramatically.) — "At  last!"     (Seizes  Tim.) 

Tim  Lynch. 

(With  apparent  guilt  but  defiantly.)  "All 
right.  But  you'll  have  to  prove  it.  I've  got  the 
best  lawyers  in  Massachusetts,  Pitt  Drew,  Alvah 
Sleeper  and  Fred  Walker.  They  are  looking  up 
the  law  on  the  case  now." 


57 


Cop. 

(Dragging  Tim  off.)  "Judge  Burton  will  tend 
to  you  and  I  guess  the  town  counsel,  Horace  Pen- 
der, will  take  care  of  your  Massachusetts  law- 
yers." 

Mrs.  Robinson. 

(To  Tim.) — -"What  have  you  done  with  Clar- 
ence, you  murderer  ?" 

Tim  Lynch. 

(Soothingly.) — "He's  all  right,  Mrs.  Robin- 
son. Don't  worry  that  I  would  harm  my  dearest 
friend  and  life  long  companion." 

Mrs.  Robinson. 

(Following  Cop  and  Tim  off  the  stage  through 
door  at  left.)  "You  wretch.  My  Clarence  has 
no  bank  robbers  and  murderers  among  his 
friends." 


Jones. 


"Can  nothing  be  done  to  get  Robinson  out  of 
this  scrape?" 


Cig  Adams. 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  can  be  done  to 
save  him  from  his  wife,  but  I  guess  the  class  of 
'99  can  protect  him  from  the  cop." 

Prof.  Richardson. 

(Enters  through  door  at  left  in  his  own  per- 
son, grim  business  like.) — "Robby  here?" 

Smith. 

(Somewhat  lightly  but  still  disapproving.)— 
"He's  about  due  back.  He  goes  out  the  window 
and  in  the  door  every  few  minutes." 

Prof.  Richardson. 

(To  Cig.)—  "Is  he  all  right?" 


58 


Cig  Adams. 

"Oh  yes,  but  he's  dreadfully  worried." 

Prof.  Richardson. 

"About  the  police  getting  him?" 

Cig  Adams. 

"No,  about  Mrs.  Robinson  seeing  him." 

Prof.  Richardson. 

(Officially.)  "Well,  the  class  is  holding  a  meet- 
ing over  by  the  Tuck  School.  We're  going  to 
mortgage  on  my  house.  Joe  Gannon  is  going  to 
raise  the  $20,000,  and  Mussy  is  going  to  sneak  it 
back  into  the  bank  so  the  whole  thing  will  be 
thought  a  mistake." 

Cig  Adams. 

"Can  we  raise  it?" 

Prof.  Richardson. 

"I  hope  so.  Of  course  it's  hard  to  raise  all 
that  money  up  here.  Sleeper  has  sold  his  car 
and  got  $2000.  Luke  Varney  has  borrowed 
$2500  from  C.  P.  Chase.  N.  P.  Brown  has  tele- 
graphed Governor  Coolidge  for  a  3  months'  ad- 
vance on  his  salary  as  judge.  I'm  negotiating  to 
lift  $4ooo  from  the  Athletic  fund.  Warren  has 
gone  down  to  Norwich  to  get  all  the  money  the 
station  agent  has  and  telegraphed  to  Washington 
for  more,  and  everybody  else  is  digging  deep. 
Second  hand  automobiles  were  never  selling  so 
cheap  in  New  Hampshire  before." 


Jones. 


{Bashfully.) — Excuse  me,  but  I've  got  $58 
which  I. have  collected  as  class  taxes  from  my 
class,  and  we'd  feel  awfully  pleased  if  you'd  take 
it."    (Thrusts  it  on  Jim.) 


59 


Robinson. 

(Enters  hurriedly  through  door  leading  from 
corridor.) — "Can  no  one  help  me  get  that  dog- 
goned  vest  before  my  wife  gets  back.  She's 
coming  up  the  street  now." 

Prof.  Richardson. 

"The  Class  of  '99  is  going  to  raise  the  $20,000. 
In  the  meantime  you  must  hide  in  some  quiet  vil- 
lage near  here  till  the  thing  blows  over.  Some 
place  like  Pompanoosuc  that  no  one  ever  goes  to, 
and  nobody  ever  came  from  except  Warren  Ken- 
dall." 

Robinson. 

"I  don't  care  about  your  $20,000,  Jim,  what  I 
want  is  that  vest." 

Mrs.  Robinson. 

(Her  voice  is  heard  wailing  in  the  corridor.) — 
"Oh,  Clarence,  Oh,  Pet !  Why  did  I  ever  let  you 
go  away  alone !  (Robinson  at  the  first  sound  of 
her  voice  disappears  again  via  bed-room.  Mrs. 
Robinson  enters.  Jim  Richardson  goes  out  while 
Mrs.  R.  is  talking.  Of  course  all  this  dodging 
in  and  out  in  one  act  is  bad  technique,  but  we 
don't  dare  to  give  the  audience  a  chance  to  think 
over  how  rotten  the  show  is  by  drawing  the  cur- 
tain, for  more  than  one  act,  so  we  decided  to  have 
the  performers  popping  on  and  off  promiscuous- 
ly. One  good  thing  about  this  plan  is  that  it 
gets  the  thing  over  with  quicker.  Mrs.  R.  speaks 
ecstatically.)  That  noble  '99  man  with  Clarence's 
vest  has  explained  it  all  to  me.  How  he  sur- 
rendered to  save  my  husband.  But  a  gentleman 
called  Chuck  told  the  policeman  that  the  person 
he  had  wasn't  Clarence  so  they  are  going  to  let 
him  go.    Where  is  Clarence?" 


60 


Cig  Adams. 

"He's  just  gone." 

Mrs.  Robinson. 

"Are  you  a  '99  man  too  ?  Can't  you  help  Clar- 
ence get  away  ?" 

Cig  Adams. 

(With  supreme  and  instant  confidence.) — 
"Sure  I  can.  You  tell  +he  cop  (he's  sure  to  come 
back  here  again)  that  I'm  your  husband.  See? 
He'll  believe  that.  He'll  believe  anything  for 
a  while.  You  scold  me,  you  know,  make  it  real. 
Just  like  a  real  wife  talking  to  a  real  husband. 
Then  he'll  lock  me  up  and  Robby  will  have  a 
chance  to  get  away." 

Mrs.  Robinson. 

"Oh  fine."  (They  retire  to  rear  of  stage  to 
practise.  Mrs.  R.  very  naturally  and  without  ap- 
parent effort  assumes  the  role  assigned  to  her.) 


Jones. 


Smith. 


Jones. 


Cop. 


(Enthusiastically.) — "Some     class     that     '99! 
Some  class !" 


(Bewildered.) — "But  why  do  they  do  all  this 
for  that  fellow  Robby?  What  is  back  of  it  all? 
I  don't  understand  it." 


"No,  because  you  don't  understand  class  spirit, 
the  purest,  most  disinterested  loyalty  of  man  to 
man  in  all  the  world."  (Smith  ponders.  You 
can  almost  hear  him  pond.) 

(Enters  glancing  around.  He  has  vest  in 
hand.)— "Where's  Robinson?" 


61 


Smith. 

"Sherlock  Holmes  again!    Ask  his  wife." 

Cop. 

(Standing  near  door  observes  Mrs.  R.  giving 
Cig  a  great  going  .over  in  rear  of  stage.  Cig  very 
humble.  Realistic  exhibition  of  little  conversa- 
tion between  husband  and  wife.)  "Ahem!  Wom- 
an !  Lady ! !  Woman  ! ! !  (Finally  Mrs.  Robinson's 
attention  is  diverted  from  the  fascinating  pastime 
of  bullying  her  fictitious  husband,  and  the  Cop 
sternly  demands.)  Who  is  this  man?"  (Robin- 
son in  shirt  sleeves  pokes  his  head  in  the  door  be- 
hind cop.  Neither  cop  nor  Mrs.  R.  see  him,  in 
fact  nobody  but  the  audience  is  supposed  to  see 
him  as  he  hungrily  prepares  to  pounce  on  the 
vest  and  don  it  before  his  wife  sees  him.) 

Cig  Adams. 

(Indignantly.) — "Don't    you    dare    insult    my 

wife." 

Cop. 

"Your  wife?  (Drops  vest,  crosses  room  and 
seizes  him.)  You  are  my  prisoner."  (Robinson 
picks  up  vest  and  hastens  into  it.) 

Mrs.  Robinson. 

(Weepily  to  Cig.) — "Oh  Clarence,  my  hus- 
band. (To  Cop.)  Don't  take  away  my  dear  and 
only  husband." 

Robinson. 

(With  vest  on,  advances  toward  wife  beaming, 
the  great  object  of  his  life,  the  recovery  of  the 
vest,  being  now  attained.) 

"Lucy,  this  is  such  a  surprise.    When  did  you 


arrive 


?" 


62 


Mrs.  Robinson. 

(Indignantly.) — "How  dare  you  call  me 
Lucy?" 

Robinson. 

(Abashed,  'and  still  thinking  of  his  treachery 
about  the  vest  and  that  his  wife  has  been  told 
that  he  took  it  off,  but  determined  to  bluff  it  out.) 
— "But  why  not  call  you  Lucy,  my  dear?" 

Cig  Adams. 

(For  the  benefit  of  the  Cop  and  trying  to  give 
Robinson  the  high  sign  to  keep  still) — "Don't 
you  call  my  wife,  'my  dear'  ". 


Robinson. 
Cop. 

Robinson. 
The  Cop. 


(In  a  daze.) — "His  wife!" 

{Over  his  shoulder  to  Robinson  not  seeing  the 
vest.) — Don't  you  butt  in  here,  this  ain't  none  of 
your  business." 

(Recovering  himself.) — "Ah!   but  this  is  my 

vest.    See  how  it  fits." 

( 

(He  is  perplexed.  He  only  wanted  to  catch 
one  bank  robber  and  there  are  two  candidates  for 
the  honor.  He  pulls  his  heavy  artillery  and  trains 
it  alternately  on  Robinson  and  Cig  while  he  en- 
deavors, in  vain,  to  recall  a  similar  instance  in 
the  literature  of  crime.  Finally  the  granite  of 
New  Hampshire  which  is  in  his  brains,  if  not  his 
muscles,  conceives  a  solution.)  "Well !  One  of 
you  two  fellers  is  the  robber  and  I  don't  quite 
know  which.  But  if  you  ain't  twins  I'm  going 
to  find  out.  Line  up  there.  March  into  that 
room,  and  I'll  try  a  little  of  the  Hanover  third 


63 


degree."  (He  lines  Robinson  and  Cig  up  and 
they  do  the  lock  step  into  the  bedroom  with  his 
shooting  iron  trained  upon  a  carefully  selected 
spot  in  the  back  of  Robinson.) 

Tim  Lynch. 

(Has  entered  and  remained  standing  in  the 
doorway  while  the  Cop  is  forming  the  procession 
and  personally  conducting  it  into  the  torture 
chamber.    He  says  to  Jones:) — "Is  the  jig  up?" 


Jones. 


"I'm  afraid  so  unless  the  class  has  raised  the 
fund." 


Tim  Lynch. 

"We're  $1000  shy  and  there  isn't  a  cent  left  in 
the  class.  They've  just  finished  auctioneering  off 
their  watches  on  the  campus.  Every  ticket  is 
gone.  We  even  got  75c  for  George  Clark's  In- 
gersoll  but  we're  still  $1000  shy.  If  we  don't  get 
the  cash  back  to  the  bank  in  five  minutes  I'm 
afraid  Robby  will  be  done  for." 


Smith. 


Jones. 
Smith. 


"What's  that?  How  much  do  you  need? 
(Pulls  out  check  book,  signs  name  to  blank 
check.)  Here  fill  it  in  for  any  amount  you  need. 
I  guess  we  Dartmouth  men  don't  go  back  on  each 
other  in  a  pinch,  not  by  a  long  chalk."  (Tim 
shakes  hands  with  him.) 

"Oh,  Buck,  I  knew  you  were  true  blue." 

(Apparently  surprised  that  there  should  be  any 
question  about  it.) — "Of  course.  This  '99  is  a 
great  class  all  right  but,  by  Godfrey,  there's  no 
flies  on  '74." 


64 


Prof.  Richardson. 

(Appears  in  the  doorway,  a  pregnant  smile 
upon  his  academic  countenance.  Before  he  spills 
the  glad  news,  the  Cop  appears  at  the  bedroom 
door.  He  holds  the  end  of  a  long  rope  and  as  he 
slowly  and  impressively  proceeds  across  the  stage 
it  is  seen  that  Robinson  and  Cig  are  tied  to  the 
other  end  of  it.  The  abject  bearing  of  Robinson 
and  Cig,  and  the  triumphant  manner  of  the  Cop 
indicate  that  he  has  extracted  a  confession  from 
each.  At  middle  stage  the  victor  and  his  victims 
are  halted  by  the  upraised  hand  of  Professor 
Richardson  who  speaks  as  one  having  authority.) 
— "Officer  Sargent!  This  whole  thing  is  a  mis- 
take.    The  Bank  wasn't  robbed  at  all." 

Cor. 

(Very  respectfully,  like  a  townie  always  talks 
to  a  member  of  the  faculty,  to  his  face.) — "Is 
that  right,  Professor  Richardson?" 

Prof.  Richardson. 

"Yes,  officer.  The  Treasurer  has  just  discov- 
ered the  money  in  his  every  day  trousers  pocket. 
You  know,  of  course,  he  keeps  the  money  there 
during  banking  hours  to  make  change  and  he  for- 
got to  put  it  in  the  vault  when  he  closed  up  yes- 
terday noon." 


Cop. 


Robinson. 


(To  Robinson  and  Cig.) — "Well  you  are  tree. 
But  don't,  either  one  of  you,  ever  do  it  again." 
(He  slinks  off  stage,  with  that  all  gone  feeling 
characteristic  of  the  before  using  picture  in  a 
patent  medicine  testimonial.  m  Tim  and  Cig  and 
the  rest  gloat.) 

(Anxiously.) — "And  you  don't  mind  about  the 
vest,  Lucy?" 

65 


Mrs.  Robinson. 

/'Hereafter,  Clarence,  I  never  am  going  to  care 
what  you  do  when  you're  with  the  class  of  '99. 
I  can  understand  now  what  class  spirit  means." 


Smith. 


Smith. 


"And  you  bet  I  can,  too." 

(Cig  at  the  piano,  starts  the  Chorus: — 
"Oh!   There's  nineteen   three  and  there's  nine- 
teen four, 
And  there's  goin'  to  be  a  lot  of  nineteens  more, 
But  —  The  best  damn  class  is  the  class  of  mine 
The  Grand  Old  Class  of  Ninety-Nine." 

While  the  above  lyric  is  being  sung  cum  ex- 
tremo  vigore  all  crowd  around  Smith  shaking 
his  hand  and  patting  him  on  the  back.  He  beams 
under  the  unaccustomed  adulation.  He  mellows 
up  like  a  russet  apple  put  out  in  the  sun  on  the 
cellar  bulkhead  on  a  warmish  March  day.  He  is 
converted,  and  like  all  new  converts,  wants 
everybody  to  know  of  his  great  experience.  So 
when  the  beautiful  strains  of  the  winsome  melody 
cease  like  the  sound  of  fairy  bells  dying  away  in 
the  recesses  of  the  Enchanted  Forest,  he  insists 
on  making  a  speech.  It  isn't  a  very  long  speech, 
but  we  must  have  it,  because,  as  Peddy  Miller 
says,  "What's  the  use  of  having  a  morality  play 
unless  there  is  a  moral  in  it?") 

"I  want  to  make  public  confession  of  the  error 
of  my  ways.  For  years,  I  have  been  pooh  pooh- 
ing  the  idea  of  class  spirit,  and  all  the  time,  I 
think,  I  knew  I  was  wrong,  but  I  was  too  stub- 
born to  admit  it.  This  little  experience  today  has 
opened  my  eyes.  I  see,  and  I  believe,  and  I  know, 
that  nowhere  in  life  is  there  an  association  which 
brings  to  men  from  early  youth,  through  the 
middle  years  and  into  old  age,  however  old  that 

66 


Chorus: 


age  be,  Jerry,  such  warmth  and  wealth  of  true 
friendship  and  sincere  affection  as  the  association 
of  a  good  Dartmouth  Class. 

"And  now,  as  a  symbol  of  my  conversion,  I 
want  to  do  something  extraordinary.  I  feel  like 
doing  something  which  I  have  never  done  be- 
fore and  never  will  do  again.  Say,  could  any  of 
you  fellers  let  me  have  a  cigarette?" 

(Robinson,  et  al,  as  soon  as  they  have  recov- 
ered from  the  shock  of  this  astounding  request 
eagerly  offers  him  cigarettes.  He  takes  one  and 
Robinson  lights  it  for  him.  He  blows  a  few  vir- 
ginal puffs.  It  makes  him  cough  and  splutter,  but 
he  gamely  sticks  to  it  enjoying  his  self  inflicted 
martyrdom.  The  music  begins  again.  Cig  Adams 
singing : 

"Oh!  There's  lots  of  dandy  classes  that  display 
the  Dartmouth  Green, 
And  against  their  great  renown  and  fame 
we  will  not  say  a  THING 
But  —  if  you  want  to  know  the  best,  that  ever 
has  been  seen, 
Just  wait  a  moment,  if  you  please,  and  listen 
to  us  sing." 
All  join  in  the  chorus  including  the  audience 
and  Smith,  who  forgets  his  bad  ankle  and  almost 
negotiates  a  few  stiff  steps  of  a  buck  and  wing 
dance.) 

"Oh!  There's  nineteen  three  and  there's  nine- 
teen four 
And  there's  goin'  to  be  a  lot  of  nineteens  more 
But  —  the  best  damn  class,  is  the  class  of  mine 
The  Grand  Old  Class  of  Ninety-Nine." 

CURTAIN. 
67 


THE  MORALITY  PLAYETTE 


It  is  no  disparagement  of  the  other  numbers  of  the 
sacred  vaudeville  with  which  we  were  entertained  on  Sun- 
day night  to  insist  that  the  morality  playette  was  the  thing. 
Those  who  did  not  witness  the  performance  can  perhaps 
get  some  faint  notion  of  what  it  was  like  by  reading  the 
text,  but  they  have  missed  the  living  reality — and  missed  it, 
I  am  afraid,  for  good  and  all,  since  it  can  scarcely  be  hoped 
that  the  same  superb  company  will  ever  be  assembled  to 
present  their  offering  a  second  time.  I  only  wish  they  could 
be,  for  I  should  like  to  see  it  again. 

It  is  reported  that  the  politico-sociological  mind  of  Ped- 
dy  Miller  was  unable  to  discover  the  moral  of  the  piece 
when  it  was  in  rehearsal,  but  that  implies  an  extraordinary 
ethical  obtuseness  on  his  part.  As  performed  in  Hanover, 
the  playette  certainly  oozed  morality  from  every  pore.  The 
helpful  and  fraternal  spirit  shown  to  Robby  (Mr.  Hoban) 
by  his  classmates  was  in  itself  a  lesson  of  deep  moral  value. 
Quite  apart  from  the  sacred  doctrine  of  class  spirit  so  warm- 
ly advocated  by  Jones  '74  (Mr.  Clark)  and  other  charac- 
ters, and  so  richly  expounded  by  Smith  '74  (Mr.  Barney) 
after  his  conversion,  the  comedy  has  its  wider  appeal  in 
Christian  ethics.  How  noble  an  example  of  self-sacrifice  is 
Tim  Lynch  (Mr.  Lynch)  !  What  moral  elevation  in  the 
efforts  made  by  members  of  '99  to  save  their  erring  class- 
mate, as  reported  by  Professor  Richardson  (Mr.  Richard- 
son) !  The  thought  of  the  sale  of  George  Clark's  Inger- 
soll  for  75c  is  in  itself  most  moving.  Nor  does  the  piece 
lack  an  example  of  stern  rectitude  and  marvelous  devotion 
to  duty  in  the  person  of  the  Hanover  Chief  of  Police  (Mr. 
Donahue).  Even  Robby,  the  frail  hero,  left  the  path  of 
virtue  for  only  a  moment.  He  did  not  rob  the  bank,  as 
we  were  led  to  fear ;  and  we  may  rest  assured  that  he  would 
never  again  take  off  carelessly  any  garment  stitched  by  his 
wife. 


68 


Being  sui  generis  —  the  only  morality  playette  in  or  out 
of  activity  — '99  UP,  or,  THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A 
WAISTCOAT  should  perhaps  not  be  subjected?  to  the  tests 
by  which  shows  are  judged  on  Broadway.  The  cast  was  dif- 
ferent, the  setting  was  different,  the  audience  was  different, 
and  therefore  the  play  had  to  be  different.  This  is  not  to 
say  that  it  was  any  the  worse  on  that  account.  Indeed,  it  is 
a  delightful  example  of  what  can  be  done  with  the  drama 
by  a  mind  trained  at  the  law,  when  the  legal  mind  gets  really 
going.  It  lacks  none  of  the  essentials:  plenty  of  action, 
sharp  definition  of  characters,  abundance  of  sentiment,  and 
the  humor  for  which  the  author  became  celebrated  before 
he  left  Wentworth  Hall.  On  Charles  H.  Donahue's  head 
is  hereby  placed  the  wreath  appropriate  to  successful  drama- 
tists. 

To  enumerate  the  members  of  the  cast  who  made  the 
most  of  their  parts  is  very  easy — it  is  necessary  only  to  give 
a  list  of  the  actors.  Possibly  Mr.  Adams  as  Cig  Adams,  Mr. 
Richardson  as  Professor  Richardson,  and  Mr.  Lynch  as  Tim 
Lynch  were  more  profoundly  true  to  life  than  the  others; 
but  they  had  a  handicap  of  several  yards  apiece.  Mr.  Don- 
ahue's impersonation  of  Ben  Sargent,  the  Chief  of  Police, 
was  a  brilliant  piece  of  idealization.  Every  stroke  was  mas- 
terly: he  was  what  such  a  functionary  ought  always  to  be. 
Those  in  the  audience  who  were  old  enough  to  remember 
Mr.  Barney  in  the  days  when  he  took  female  parts  with  such 
success  that  his  manners  and  dress  were  widely  copied  in 
Hanover  and  the  vicinity,  were  astounded  by  his  virtuosity 
in  appearing  as  a  crusty  member  of  '74.  He  gave  a  very 
sound  performance,  as  did  his  classmate  Jones  (Mr.  Clark). 
One  could  almost  imagine  that  the  latter  was  speaking  his 
own  sentiments  rather  than  those  of  the  playwright  when  he 
defended  class  loyalty  and  rejoiced  in  its  triumph.  Mr. 
Hoban  in  the  role  of  Robinson  '99  left  nothing  to  be  desired 
as  the  devoted  husband  of  a  color-blind  wife.  The  sym- 
pathy of  the  audience  was  with  him  when  it  remembered 
the  waistcoat,  and  was  lost  only  when  it  saw  Mrs.  Robin- 

69 


son.  In  this  part  Mrs.  Drew  somewhat  softened  the  as- 
perities of  the  character  as  conceived  by  the  author,  but  she 
certainly  added  to  its  charm.  It  must  be  said,  without  of- 
fence to  the  art  of  the  actress,  that  she  did  not  look  color- 
blind or  behave  like  a  shrew.  The  truth  is  that  one  cannot, 
in  acting,  wholly  escape  from  one's  own  personality.  How- 
ever, Mrs.  Drew  was  doubtless  right  in  her  interpretation, 
for  nobody  could  have  wished  it  different. 

To  Mrs.  Drew  as  stage  director  the  company  owed  a 
great  deal  of  its  success,  and  the  audience  much  of  its 
pleasure.  She  should  share  with  Mr.  Donahue  the  honor 
of  creating  a  very  delightful — and  very  moral — show. 

Gordon  Hall  Gerould. 


Members  of  the  Class  of  Jpp,  wives,  friends    and  invited' 
guests: — 

I  am  not  at  all  unmindful  of  the  great  honor  which  has 
been  thrust  upon  me  when  I  am  asked  to  address  you 
upon  such  an  occasion  as  this,  your  20th  reunion  at  com- 
mencement. When  your  committee  first  asked  me  to  de- 
liver a  lecture  or  read  a  paper  at  this  time  I  was  for 
a  while  at  a  loss  to  decide  whether  I  would  prepare  merely 
a  light  and  entertaining  essay,  or  whether  I  should  try  to 
combine  some  useful  learning  with  my  discourse,  and  have 
you  go  away  feeling  that  you  had  added  somewhat  to  the 
already  broad  education  which  you  received  within  the 
walls  of  the  old  college. 

For  a  number  of  years  past  I  have  made  a  special 
study  of  the  geological  formations  in  and  about  Hanover, 
and  in  the  course  of  my  investigations  I  have  very  naturally 
come  upon  a  variety  of  interesting  specimens,  curiosities, 

70 


Photo  by  The  Kimball  Studio,  Concord,  N.  H. 

Bob  Johnston  as  "Prof.  Kilgallon" 


and  relics  of  a  past  age.  In  many  cases  these  exhibits 
have  an  intense  human  interest  in  addition  to  their  great 
value  as  examples  of  the  life  and  customs  of  other  days. 
Believing  that  you  would  be  interested  and  entertained  by 
an  inspection  and  exposition  of  my  collection  I  have  brought 
here  some  few  of  my  more  choice  specimens,  and  will 
proceed  briefly  to  outline  the  characteristics  of  each  one, 
and  also  give  you  some  slight  information  as  to  the  cir- 
cumstances under  which  it  was  found.  All  of  my  specimens 
were  discovered  within  the  geographical  confines  of  Han- 
over, and  in  such  places  as  mounds,  escas,  dumps,  glaciers, 
garbage  pails,  caves,  cellars  and  back  yards  of  faculty 
houses.  Many  of  them  give  evidence  of  great  age  and 
hard  usage  and  we  cannot  help  but  gaze  upon  them  with 
awe-stricken  interest  as  we  think  of  their  antiquity,  dating 
from  the  time  when  the  sabre-toothed  tiger,  the  woolly 
rhinoceros,  the  wild  Owen  Hall,  the  Buck  Burns,  the  Pap 
Abbott,  the  mammoth,  the  unicorn  and  Lew  Mead  roamed 
the  plains  of  Hanover. 

Without  further  introduction  I  will  call  to  your  no- 
tice the  various  specimens,  and  I  would  welcome  inquiries 
regarding  them  if  questions  come  to  your  mind. 

Flat  bone 

Specimen  number  I  is  an  extremely  interesting  piece. 
As  you  will  see  it  is  human  fossil  remains,  and  of  a  bony 
consistency.  It  was  unearthed  during  commencement  week 
of  1899  by  a  member  of  my  own  class  while  he  was  digging 
in  the  rear  of  Sanborn  Hall  trying  to  find  a  jug  of  refresh- 
ment which  he  had  buried  there  the  night  before  during  a 
raid  by  our  good  dean  of  that  period,  Chuck  Emerson. 
Immediately  upon  the  discovery  of  this  bone  I  was  noti- 
fied, and  set  out  at  once  to  trace  its  origin.  The  first  place 
visited  was  the  site  of  a  ruin  where  had  long  stood  a  build- 
ing known  locally  as  number  10.  This  was  a  structure  of  a 
semi-private  character,   but  open,   however,  to   the  public. 


71 


The  crumbling  walls  were  found  to  be  entirely  covered 
with  cuneiform  inscriptions  or  hieroglyphics,  and  from 
them  we  learned  that  the  fossil  was  a  section  of  the  skull 
or  the  bone-head  of  a  trustee  of  the  college.  The  peculiar 
character  of  the  fracture  which  cracked  this  educator's 
bean  shows  that  he  was  evidently  struck  with  a  meat  axe 
or  other  blunt  instrument.  It  has  been  suggested  that  this 
trustee  was  struck  with  a  good  idea,  but  a  close  study  of 
trustees  in  general  leads  us  to  believe  this  impossible.  He 
was  doubtless  killed  by  his  fellow  trustees  during  a  row 
as  to  which  of  them  would  have  the  rooms  with  bath  at  the 
Inn  during  Commencement.  A  chemical  analysis  of  this 
piece  of  bone  shows  it  to  be  so  full  of  lime  that  it  was  at 
first  surmised  this  particular  trustee  might  have  lived  in 
the  limestone  age,  but  closer  investigation  proved  the  lime 
to  be  the  result  of  a  diet  of  lime  rickeys,  better  known  by 
the  common  or  garden  name  of  gin  rickeys. 

Beer  bottle 

Will  you  give  your  attention  for  a  moment  now  to 
exhibit  number  2.  A  remarkable  piece  of  pottery  indeed, 
and  from  the  inscription  in  the  ancient  Chaldean  tongue 
believed  to  be  a  vase  or  receptacle  for  the  storage  of  beer 
or  other  beverage  of  the  period.  This  particular  piece  was 
found  on  the  Appian  Way,  or  highway,  which  leads  from 
Hanover  to  Lebanon,  and  had  evidently  lain  there  long 
when  it  was  finally  discovered  and  rescued  by  Harry  Wason 
and  placed  in  this  priceless  collection.  Some  years  after 
its  recovery  I  communicated  with  the  Hon.  Ernest  Fox 
Nichols  and  he  informed  me  that  possibly  Rab  Abbott,  or 
Cig  Adams  could  translate  the  odd  characters  on  the  vessel. 
A  few  months  of  close  study  on, their  part  resulted  in  great 
light  being  shed  on  the  original  contents  and  uses  of  this 
vase,  and  the  period  from  which  it  dates.  The  vessel  was 
evidently  owned  in  the  family  of  one  of  the  Boston  aristoc- 
racy of  the  time  by  the  name  of  "Gahm"  or  "Joe  Gahm," 
and  from  the  inscription  we  learn  that  he  was  famous  in 

72 


his  time  as  a  brewery  agent,  and  in  his  wine  presses  he 
used  to  press  a  rare  beer  known  as  "Schlitz."  This  con- 
tainer gives  every  evidence  of  having  at  one  time  been 
used  as  a  holder  for  that  beverage,  much  as  the  wine-skins 
of  ancient  Egypt  were  used.  Careful  investigation  and 
search  in  the  mounds  and  river-bottoms  about  Hanover  as 
well  as  in  the  cellars  of  certain  members  of  the  faculty, 
namely  Jim  Richardson,  it  is  believed  would  reveal  a  num- 
ber of  these  rare  pieces  of  pottery  or  glass,  and  a  collec- 
tion of  such  objects  of  art  could  not  fail  to  be  a  great  and 
interesting  addition  to  the  museum  in  JButterfield  hall.  This 
particular  piece  has  been  offered  for  sale  to  the  college  at 
a  merely  nominal  sum,  in  order  that  it  may  not  pass  from 
the  possession  of  the  college,  and  the  trustees  are  now  con- 
sidering its  purchase.  One  member  of  the  board  is  re- 
ported to  have  stated  that  he  would  vote  to  give  15  cents 
for  it  if  it  were  full,  but  unfortunately  its  original  contents 
are  missing.    We  will  now  pass  on  to  the  next. 

Plug  of  Tobacco 

Number  3  is  an  interesting  item,  although  chiefly  no- 
table rather  from  an  economic  than  a  scientific  point  of 
view.  In  appearance  it  closely  resembles  a  piece  of  pemmi- 
can,  a  condensed  food  much  used  by  Arctic  explorers,  but 
those  of  you  who  are  familiar  with  the  customs  and  habits 
obtaining  in  the  Old  Dartmouth  will  readily  recognize  it  as 
a  souvenir  of  the  earliest  times,  coming  down-  to  us  from 
the  days  of  Wheelock  and  his  Indians.  It  is  what  was 
known  in  the  years  just  previous  to  1906  as  a  plug  of  chew- 
ing, still  called  by  some  persons  by  its  Indian  name  of  "To- 
bacco." 

It  was  a  popular  and  much  used  article  of  food  in 
Hanover  in  the  9o's  among  some  of  the  rougher  element 
such  as  Corey,  Skipper  Littlefield,  or  Boyle  of  1900,  and 
the  marks  of  its  consumption  may  still  be  seen  on  the 
rough  board  floors  of  many  of  the  older  recitation  rooms. 


73 


In  conjunction  with  that  other  staple  product,  rum,  it 
formed  the  chief  sustenance  of  many  during  those  hard 
pioneer  days  from  1902  to  1906,  and  its  value  as  a  food 
product  can  hardly  be  overestimated. 

Skull 

I  want  to  call  your  particular  attention  to  article  num- 
ber 4.  This  as  you  will  see  is  a  skull,  and  one  that  gave  us 
great  trouble  to  identify  for  a  long  time.  It  was  discovered 
about  two  feet  below  the  surface  while  excavating  for '  a 
sewer  in  Lebanon  street,  and  was  first  thought  to  date  from 
the  Paleoxoic  age,  until  I  pointed  out  the  low,  retreating 
forehead.  This  characteristic  led  some  scientists  to  believe 
that  it  was  the  skull  of  Johnnie  K.  Lord,  or  possibly  of 
Fred  P.  Emery.  I  readily  placed  it,  however,  as  the  fossil- 
ized dome  of  a  member  of  the  class  of  1900,  from  the  nar- 
row frontal  bone  and  small  brain  capacity,  indicating  to- 
gether a  limited  and  low  order  of  intelligence.  You  will  no- 
tice the  undershot  jaw,  a  distinctive  mark  in  the  caveman, 
the  ape-man,  and  the  1900  man.  The  teeth  are  missing  with 
the  exception  of  two,  they  having  been  destroyed  in  the  at- 
tempt to  eat  the  rough  food  at  the  Hanover  boarding  clubs 
of  the  period.  Two  teeth  only  remain,  well  worn,  and  heavily 
stained  with  Dark  B.  L.,  it  having  been  the  custom  among 
the  untutored  and  uncivilized  men  of  1900  to  chew  such 
material  in  great  quantities.  Note  especially  the  abnor- 
mal development  of  the  back  of  the  cranium,  a  character- 
istic of  the  men  of  1900  and  known  as  "fat-head." 

In  life  this  subject  must  have  been  indeed  a  ferocious 
and  fearful  spectacle,  looking  not  unlike  Johnny  McCarty 
or  Johnnie  Row. 

Rum  bottle 

Piece  number  5  is  a  fragment  that  rivets  our  attention 
at  once.  As  dear  old  Stubby  Wells  has  so  well  said,  "There 
is  no  surer  way  of  studying  the  habits  and  customs  of  a 

74 


people  than  by  observing  the  character  of  the  utensils 
which  were  in  use  during  the  period  in  which  they  lived  and 
died."  This  fossil,  combining  some  of  the  qualities  of  a  wa- 
ter jug  or  vase  for  holding  flowers,  hardly  seems  however, 
to  have  been  actually  in  use  for  either  purpose.  I  was  in 
Hanover  during  commencement  week  of  1910,  at  the  time 
when  the  distinguished  class  of  1900  was  holding  its  de- 
cennial reunion,  and  in  wandering  over  the  battlefield  in 
the  early  morning  I  happened  wholly  by  chance  to  come 
upon  this  rare  bit  of  pottery  which  lay  upon  the  campus 
almost  unnoticed,  dropped  there  by  a  brave  soldier  no 
doubt  during  the  heat  of  the  engagement  the  night  before. 
No  less  an  authority  on  folk-lore  than  Gil  Frost  pronounced 
it  an  example  of  early  Scotch  craftsmanship,  and  he  re- 
lied for  his  proof  partly  on  the  peculiar  shape  of  the  recep- 
tacle, but,  mostly  upon  the  characteristic  smell.  I  took  issue 
with  him  upon  this  point,  and  disputing  his  claim  that  the 
vase  had  been  of  Scotch  origin  I  contended  that  it  was  not 
Scotch  but  Rye.  Weary  Wardle  and  Pitt  Drew  were  called 
into  consultation,  and  after  much  investigation  they  reported 
that  the  vessel  had  contained  merely  a  beverage  known  lo- 
cally as  "hard  stuff."  Thus  a  rare  discovery  was  made, 
and  we  had  the  pleasure  of  finding  out  that  back  in  that 
remote  age  there  was  no  such  thing  as  "safety  first." 

Old  Corsets 

In  coming  to  specimen  number  6  I  feel  that  I  should 
perhaps  make  the  explanation  that  this  discovery  was  not 
found  strictly  within  the  town  of  Hanover,  but  so  nearby 
as  to  warrant  it  in  holding  a  place  in  my  collection.  It 
was  recovered  by  Neal  Hoskins  and  Charlie  Cushman  in 
the  neighboring  village  of  Lebanon,  and  bears  so  close  a 
relation  to  the  college  and  its  history  that  Messrs.  Hoskins 
and  Cushman  realized  at  once  its  great  value,  and  lost  no 
time  in  adding  it  to  this  priceless  museum  of  fine  arts.  Al- 
though in  rather  a  good  state  of  preservation  the  article  was 
at  first  difficult  to  identify,  until  Montie  Fuller  and  George 

75 


Clark  of  the  class  of  1899  had  given  it  some  study.  They 
eventually  recognized  the  relic,  and  informed  me  that  the 
specimen  was  an  article  of  dress  of  the  period.  It  is  be-- 
lieved  that  it  was  in  use  by  some  young  lady,  of  that  time, 
and  was  discarded  by  her  and  afterwards  forgotten.  It 
has  been  suggested  that  a  thorough  search  in  the  town  of 
Lebanon  might  even  at  this  late  date  bring  to  light  similar 
specimens,  but  be  that  as  it  may,  the  fact  remains  that  it  is 
an  interesting  object  for  our  .study. 

Red  Hair 

Discovery  number  7  is  one  that  gave  us  great  difficulty 
to  place,  and  it  was  only  after  months  of  investigation  that 
we  were  able  to  trace  its  origin.  It  is  of  such  rare  and 
strange  character  that  I  believe  you  will  be  closely  inter- 
ested in  it.  As  you  will  see  it  has  the  appearance  of  a  small 
tuft  of  reddish  hair  or  wool.  It  was  found  by  Sloppy 
Hall  behind  a  radiator  in  one  of  the  rooms  in  the  history 
department,  and  its  origin  remained  a  mystery  for  weeks. 
Some  naturalists  classed  it  as  wool,  but  a  microscopic  ex- 
amination readily  proved  it  to  be  more  like  hair  of  a  fine 
and  silky  texture,  such  as  is  often  used  for  whiskers.  Some 
insisted  that  it  was  the  down  or  feathers  of  some  strange 
fowl,  but  this  analysis  was  enventually  rejected.  It  was 
not  until  a  long  time  after  that  the  secret  was  discovered. 
It  seems  that  a  rare  and  little  known  wild  bird  had  started 
to  build  a  nest  in  the  history  room,  and  had  used  such  of 
this  reddish  or  golden  hair  as  he  could  find  to  weave  the 
nest  in  the  space  behind  the  radiator.  The  bird  was  seen 
at  intervals  after  this  as  it  sought  for  building  material, 
and  in  flying  about  it  gave  vent  to  a  peculiar  and  sharp 
cry,  sounding  not  unlike  "Eric!  Eric!  Eric!" 

This  completes  the  list  of  specimens  which  I  have 
classified  and  arranged  although  I  have  several  others  on 
view  which  it  is  my  intention  to  study  more  thoroughly  at 
'some  later  time,  and  write  brief  descriptions  of  them  for 
the  scientific  periodicals.     At  the  close  of  the  lecture  I  in- 

76 


vite  as  many  of  you  as  wish  to  inspect  the  collection  and 
ask  any  questions  regarding  it  that  may  occur  to  you.  I 
thank  you  again  for  your  kind  attention. 


PAUL  OSGOOD'S  MILESTONES  TALKS  ACTUALLY 
GIVEN  IN  PART  BY  GEORGE  CLARK 


Railroads,  generations  and  college  classes  have  milestones. 
The  first  '99  milestone  was  the  day  we  jumped  off  the 
train  at 

1.  Norwich  and  Hanover  Station  and  jumped  upon  one  of 
"Dud's"   coaches. 

2.  The    day    we    got    our    first    glimpse    of    the    Dartmouth 

campus ; 

3.  First  met  Dean   Emerson,  first  spoke   to  the  soul  of  the 

Dartmouth    of   our   generation, 

4.  Dr.    Tucker.         (APPLAUSE) 

5  That  day  Dave  Storrs  and  Rice  directed  Peddy  Miller  to 
Cobb's  Emporium  where  Peddy  put  all  the  money  left, 
after  paying  Treasurer  Chase,  into  a  bunch  of  bananas 
whereon   to   live. 

6.  That  evening  George   Evans  gathered  under  his   sweater 

a  football  that  '99  would  have  liked  to  have  and  later 
distributed  the  pieces.     It  was  a  memorable  milestone. 

7.  Later  in  old  chapel  there  came  a  kind  of  quarter  mile- 
stone when  '98  tried  to  salt  us  down  as  though  we  were 
so  many  young  schrod.  They  went  a  flying  out  the 
chapel   door  for   their  audacity. 

8.  As  soon  as   Bennie,   Herb,   Carl  and  Jerry  could  get  the 

salt  out  of  their  hair  they  climbed  the  hill  east  of  the 
Oval.  Bennie  found  for  the  first  time  that  the  earth 
isn't  all  flat  the  way  it  is  in  Illinois. 

9.  Cav  and  Joe  Edwards  got  rid  of  the  salt  irt  their  matted 
head  rugs  by  rubbing  it  into  the  men  on. the  varsity  squad 
until   Indian  MacAndrews  begged   Coach  Wurtenberg  to 


77 


put  them  on  the  varsity  side  so  they  would  rub  into 
their    own    crowd. 

10.  Bill  Colbert,  Pap  Abbott  started  a  real  milestone  when 
Carlton  cracked  the  pistol  for  the  ioo  yd.  dash  at  the 
fall   track  meet. 

ii.  '99  was  some  champion  when  the  meet  was  over  and  '98 
and  the  rest  knew  that  it  had  come  on  the  map  to  stay. 

12.  Having  our  freshman  picture  was  another  sort  of  mile- 
stone.    Oh,   now  for  the  vanished  hair! 

13.  The  day  Asakawa  joined  our  class  was  still  another  mile- 

stone. A  recent  postcard  of  his  from  Tokio  sends  you 
greetings. 

14.  The  football  games  with  Amherst  and  Williams  in  which 

Cav,  Crolius,  Bill  Eaton,  Rab  Abbott,  Doc  Norton  and 
Frank  Staley  helped  to  win  the  football  championship 
were  milestones  too.  Freshman  fall  was  just  full  of  mile- 
stones. 

15.  This   fraternity  initiation   summons   to    Parker  symbolizes 

another  milestone  that  many  of  us  approached  with  shak- 
ing knees  and  got  by  with  fear  and  trembling. 

16.  When    Bill  Wason    came   out    with  a    green  ana    white 

sweater  imitating  a  South  African  zebra  and  set  the 
fashion,  well  that  was  almost  a  milestone.  Many  of  our 
pocketbooks  had  hard  work  getting  by  it. 

17.  The  night  Kimball  boxed  Farley  '98  in  Upper  Hallgarten 

and  Greenwood,  etc.  bet  their  last  penny  that  '99  "would 
lick"  deserves  to  classify  in  this  list. 

18.  Likewise   the   day   Bobby   Rowe,    Fritz   Crolius   and   Mun 

Folsom  ran  out  on  to  the  campus  in  baseball  togs,  tossed 
up  a  ball,  thus  indicating  that  freshman  spring  had  come. 

19.  Do  you  recall  the  famous  '99  freshman  team,  Query 
whether  the  one  game  they  played  was  really  a  mile- 
stone?   Their  sweater  bill  was  more  a  stumbling  block. 

20.  The  cane  rush  when  we  did  up  '98  was  the  real  thing. 

21.  So  too  when  the  '99ers   on  the  track  team  helped  Steve 

Chase  win  the  Intercollegiate  track  meet  at  Worcester. 

22.  That  night  Benezet  and  Cig  Adams  lost  their  voices  sing- 

ing "Roe  Johnny  Roe"  all  the  way  to  the  Jet. 


78 


23.  There  were  so  many  milestones  that  spring  that  Speare  had  to 

bring  his  books  out  of  doors  to  get  in  any  work  at  all. 

24.  And  when  the  class  canes  came,  the  real  milestone  that  marked 
off  freshman  year,  was  passed. 

25.  The  bell  rush  that  began  at  the  class  game  of  sophomore  year 
on  the  Oval  and  ended  in  a  mud  hole  outside  the  Oval  was  the 
next  ninety-nine  milestone. 

26.  It  was  followed  by  Bill  Sears  winning  the  200  yard  dash  for 
'99 

27.  and  Tedo  Chase  leaping  the  hurdles  to  another  interclass  meet 
victory  for  '99 

28.  The  afternoon  Buck  Burns  got  a  mug  of  cider  from  the  Nor- 

wich cider  boy, 

29.  and  got  Kirk  and  Ladd  to  start  the  South  African  movement 
was  the  next  milestone. 

30.  The  day  Professor  Emery  returned  Cav's  daily  theme  with 
the  remark  "Excellent,   Send  to  the  Lit"  was  another. 

31.  Late  in  Sophomore  Spring  the  freshmen  brought  out  a  pick 
axe  handle  for  a  cane  and  yell  "Wey  Who  Wey,  last  year's 

Freshmen,  MJLK." 

32.  "Last  year's  freshmen"  were  up  before  Reed  listening  to  Carl- 
ton lay  down  some  new  kind  of  cane  rush  rules. 

33.  Then  we  swooped  down,  etc. 

34.  You  can  just  pick  out  Dickey  in  the  midst  of  the  melee  that 
ensued. 

35.  Pearl  throwing  himself  in  to  save  the  day,  then,  illustrates 
the  way  he  threw  himself  in  two  years  ago  to  save  the  Food 
situation  when  Mr.  Hoover  called. 

36.  The  rush  fell.  When  Professor  Lord  got  it  unsnarled  and 
declared  '99  had  won, 

37.  Wardle  had  to  walk  before  Ikey  to  his  room  so  Ikey  wouldn't 
be   arrested  by  the   Hanover  cop 

38.  and  Pap  and  Buck  led  the  class,  or  as  much  of  it  as  had  suffi- 
cient clothes,  in  a  peerade  about  the  campus,  singing  "Hail, 
Hail,  the  rush  is  over  now."     That  was  a  real  milestone. 


79 


39.  The    School    for    Scandal,    cleverly    given    by    Payne,    Gannon, 

Barney  and  others  proved  another  milestone 

40.  and  when  Professor  Emerson  had  finished  his  laboratory  dem- 
onstration at  the  end  of  the  course  in  physics  we  knew  that 
sophomore  year  had  been  turned. 

41.  Another  milestone  was  the  day  Junior  year  a  poster  calling 
for  recruits  in  the  war  with  Spain  quietly  appeared  on  the  bul- 
letin board  before  the  Webster  elm. 

42.  Immediately  Jim  Barney  had  a  company  drilling  on  the  cam- 
pus at  6  A.  M. 

43.  Tim  Lynch,  Pete  Lane,  Bill  Frazer,  and  Ted  Child,  the  last 
of  whom  joined  the  R.  R.  Engineers,  and  is  the  only  '99er 
still  over  there,  at  once  got  the  fever  to  go.  Dr.  Tucker  dis- 
suaded all  but  Lane. 

44.  Pete  was  in  the  line  of  volunteers  later  on  the  campus.  Note 
the  D's, 

45.  escorted  to  the  station  by  John  Philip  Sousa  Pearl's  famous 
college  band. 

46.  It  was  an  emotion-strained  farewell  at  the  station  that  marked 
the  passage  of  that     milestone. 

47.  Capt.  Pitt  Drew's  championship  ball  team  with  Mun  Folsom 
and  Fritz   Crolius  upon  it  made  the  next  milestone. 

Hawley  Chase,  Pap  and  all  the  other  rooters  that  had  followed 
the  team  to  Williamstown,  got  so  excited  over  the  prospect  of 
winning  some  Williams  money  that  they  failed  to  recognize 
that  another  stone  had  been  passed. 

49.  When  college  opened  senior  fall  with  Musgrove  etc.,  running 
the  Dartmouth  we  tried  to  wake  up  our  sleepy  eyes  to  a  real- 
ization that  another  milestone  was  by  the  way. 

50.  When  the  Wentworth  Hall  gang  actually  put  on  white  col- 
lars, all  save  Wig  who  refused  point  blank,  we  knew  it 

51.  and  when  they  put  the  incoming  freshmen  through  the  first 
Delta  Alpha  Hall  initiation  we  had  a  realizing  sense  that  some- 
thing really  had  been  started  as  well  as  passed. 

52.  A  victory  over  Williams, 

53.  a  bonfire  on  the  campus. 


80 


54-  and  a  turkey  raid  by  Rounds,  Kimball  et  al  was  another 
milestone. 

55.  The  day  Jack  Sanborn  let  the  Thayer  School  bunch  down 
the  track  to  the  Jet., 

<$6.  and  the  bridge  at  West  Leb  was  held  against  all  comers 
was  the  next.  Horatio  at  the  bridge  had  nothing  on  that 
bunch. 

57.  The    day    Judge    Nelson    P.    Brown    and    Prof.    James    P. 

Richardson  did  high  snow  diving  from  the  Tri  Kappa 
porch    was    the    next    milestone. 

58.  The  next  was  the  First  Junior  prom  parade,  Pearl's  band 

escorted 

59.  The  managers,   Hoskins,   Johnston  and  Keyes,   in  a  won- 

derful   gilded   coach, 

60.  Even  the  night  owl  cart  was  pressed  into  service  in  that 
parade  for  the  crowd  to  gape  at. 

61.  At   the   show   that   followed   Bobbie,    now    Maj.   Johnston 

of  Gov.  Bartlett's  staff,  and  Hoss  gave  for  the  last  time 
their  renowned  rube  impersonations,  maybe  I  err  in 
calling  this  their  farewell  appearance,  it  was  nevertheless 
another  milestone. 

62.  At  any  rate  the  fair  June  Sunday  morning  that  the  guard- 

ian of  the  law  arrested  Hoban  getting  an  innocent  weekly 
bath  in  the  brook  at  Norwich  was  a  '99  milestone. 

63.  Donahue's  class  day  prophecies  at  the  Bema  that  we  all 
got  by  with  more  or  less  wobbling  and  some  hilarity 

^4.  and  the  alumni  luncheon  in  the  Gym  at  which  Bob  John- 
ston nearly  disgraced  the  class  by  asking  out  loud  who 
"stole  Chuck  Emerson's  ice  cream  freezer"  as  the  dis- 
tinguished Director  of  the  Pan  American  Union  was 
soaring  to  unknown  heights  of  oratory,  was  not  the  last 
milestone,  as  many  of  us  thought,  but  only  the  beginning 
of  a  new  kind. 

^5.  The  yearly  '99  Round-Up  always  on  the  first  Saturday 
night  in  March  now  began  to  mark  the  way  with  regu- 
larity 

66.  Punctuated  by  the  -more  monumental  stones,  first  the 
Triennial,  then  the  Quin  quennial  and  the  Decennial, 
Oh  that  Decennial,  sometimes  mispronounced  DeKen- 
nial. 

81 


67.  That  was  the  first  year  of  the  golden  age  of  Warren 
Kendall's  special  commencement  trains  "befo  de  war." 
In  those  naive  days  Ike  Leavitt,  who  had  heard  that  '99 
was  to  spring  a  uniform  upon  the  unsophisticated  Dart- 
mouth campus  touched  the  seam  of  Luke's  new  peg  tops 
with  the  question,  "Are  these  the  uniforms,  Luke?" 

58.  That  was  the  year  that  Pap  and  Buck  brought  a  lady 
named  Lena  instead  of  their  wives  to  the  reunion.  She's 
back  again  this  year  accompanied  by  her  son  and  she  po- 
litely lowers  her  '99  parasol  when  you  inquire  "whose 
boy?" 

69.  That  was  a  red  letter  milestone  (group).  The  ladies 
wore  real  hats  with  real  brims  in  those  days. 

*?o.  The  Sunday  afternoon  ride  was  off  to  the  reservoir  and 
Lord's  Hill,  behind  real  horses.  It  was  a  honeymoon 
for  Celery  and  Mrs.  Payne,  on  the  middle  seat,  but  pro- 
perly chaperoned  as  you  can  see  by  Joe  Gannon  and 
others. 

71.  The  program  was  so  chuck  full  of  events  that  year  that 

after  the  memorial  service  Long  Jim,  glancing  down  the 
program,  remarked  to  Warren,  "I  swan,  here  is  a  half 
hour  without  anything  scheduled." 

72.  At  1  P.  M.  Class  Day,  Joe  Gannon  shouted  a  now  classical 
"fall  in"  and  costumes  first  made  their  appearance.  From 
that  time 

73.  they  were  in  evidence  everywhere  accompanied  by  vocif- 
erous singing  and  marching. 

74.  Even  the  ladies  were  bunched  up,  protected  by  a  square, 
marched  up  and  down  the  campus  and  back  again  until 

-  their  French  heels  wanted  to  cry  out  "halt." 

75.  There   was   a   Tuesday  morning  ball,  game   with   '04   wherein 

the  players  like  Mun  Folsom  ate  chunks  of  pie  and 
mingled  with  the  crowd  between  innings. 

76.  Wherein    a    certain    young    lady,    Miss    Swain,    now    Mrs. 

Drew,  got  very  much  excited  because  a  certain  young 
ninety-nine   man,    Pitt,   knocked  a   home   run, 

77.  Wherein  the  umpire  got  mobbed  by  such  recalcitrants 
as  Long  Jim  and  Tim  Lynch,  and 

78.  Hodgkins  faked  an  injury  and  was  rushed  off  the  field  by 
Dr.     Sanborn   and    ambulance    men    Abbott   and     Burns, 


82 


nearly   causing  a    collapse    on    Mrs.    Hodge's    part   whom 
they  had  forgotten  to  tip  off. 

79.  Hodge  remarked  at  the  end  of  the  game  to  Frank  Staley 
"Umph,  weren't  they  rotten?"  indicating  how  the  score 
stood, 

80.  and  the  sound  of  "hail,  hail  the  game  is  over  now"  with 

some   more    words    tacked   on,    showed   that   we   had   not 
forgotten  the  cane  rush  pean  of  sophomore  year. 

81.  Mushy  played  the  part  unconsciously  of  the  proud  father 

82.  and   '99  led  all   the  rest  about  the   campus.  ■ 

83.  Varney,  second  from  left,  front  row  of  chorus,  could 
really  do  a  skirt  dance  then 

84.  The  exit  of  the  '99  chorus  was  done  with  the  eclat  of  a 

striking  cab   driver's  union. 

85.  Waiting  next  day  in  the  bread  line  for  the  alumni  lunch- 

eon and  Long  Jim's  oration  completed  a  milestone  with 
four  sides  all  to  the   road. 

86.  The     next    grand     '99    monument     was    the     Quindecennial 

halcyon  days,  2  private  cars  to  Hanover. 

87.  A  piano  with   Hodge  on  the  keyboard  and   Cig  above  it 

buttressed  in  by  bag  and  baggage 

88.  Made   the    entry  into   Hanover   triumphal. 

89.  Pictures  of  Bennie  telling,  the  Class  Baby  about  his 
father's   college   escapades,     I 

90.  of  a  picnic  down  by  the  river  Sunday  evening  where  Fat 
DuBois  presided  over  a  half   bushel  of  peanuts, 

91.  Rice   giving   Storrs   a   light  at   the   class   meeting, 

92.  of  the  cast  for  the  '99  pageantette  of  Eleazar  refounding 
the  college,  attempting  to  look  like  real  actors  while 
Winchester   took   their  photo 

93.  of  Bill  Atwood  acquiescing  to  Bob  Johnston's  Sam  Oc- 
cum's  "to  So.  East  Leb.  plenty  squaw,  to  So.  West  Junct. 
plenty  fire  water,  fine  place  for  college,"  and  declaring 
the   college   founded,    come   back   with   sharpness. 

94.  Again  the  ladies  marched  as  well  as  Rab  Abbott. 

95.  Warren  Kendall  directed  Marshal  Gannon  in  leading  to  a 

shady   bit    of   lawn   at   the   head   of   the   then   new   Tuck 
Drive 

83 


g6.  which  Pap  Abbott  with  wit  and  some  of  the  gestures  he 
admitted  to  have  stolen  from  Bob  Johnston's  gesture  cas- 
ket of  college  days  dedicated  the  "Acqua  Via." 

97.  Oh  we  marched  on  the  campus  as  of  yore 

98.  and  we  blistered  upon  the  bleachers  in  proper  commence- 

ment fashion. 

99.  Rab  Abbott's  decorative  pendant  amused  the  distinguished 

Historian  of  the  Russo-Japanese  war  by  his  side.  The 
Oriental  expression  on  the  latter's  face  is  the  beginning 
of  the  thought  "Some  day — well  in  Middle  Massachusetts 
there'll  be  no  more  Strawberry  call." 

coo.  A  little  tea  party  to  the  distinguished  class  of  '94  and 
other  friends, 

[Oi.  Hoban's  admonition  "Remember  fellows  the  next  '99  mile- 
stone will  begin  June  21,  1919"  told  that  the  Quindecen- 
nial  was  fading  into  memory.  But  we  have  remembered 
the  admonition,  you  see.  Every  Dartmouth  milestone  is 
as  sacred  to  '99  as  the  Charing  crosses  were  to  Edward 
of  England. 


Dear  Kenneth : — 

In  looking  over  the  notes  that  I  had  made  for  my  talk 
in  the  Robinson  Theatre  Sunday  night  I  find  that  I  left 
undone  some  things  that  ought  to  have  been  done,  and  did 
some  things  that  ought  not  to  have  been  done.  To  tell  the 
truth,  when  I  made  up  the  talk  (beforehand)  I  had  pic- 
tured myself  getting  up  as  I  did  at  the  dinner  in  1914,  and 
just  opening  my  mouth  and  letting  it  go,  unchecked,  un- 
censored,  unexpurgated,  untrammeled. 

Imagine  how  panic-stricken  I  was  accordingly  when  I 
found  myself  addressing  a  dignified  audience,  including  the 
Governor  of  New  Hampshire,  the  President  and  Dean  of 
Dartmouth  College,  staid  and  respected  professors,  and  ma- 
ture Daughters  of  the  Colonial  Dames  who  would  have  been 
shocked  beyond  measure  had  I  spieled  my  spiel  as  originally 
mapped  out. 


84 


It  took  some  quick  mental  scene-shif tings  and  hasty 
last-minute  revisions  before  I  could  say  anything  at  all, 
and  some  o<f  my  best  yarns  had  to  be  sadly  hamstrung. 

How,  for  instance,  could  I  have  told  the  true  tale  of  the 
disappearance  of  the  Deutschemythologiebuch,  as  I  shall 
now  tell  it  to  you,  with  George  D.  Lord  and  Mrs.  Georgie 
sitting  there  before  me?  So  I  had  to  pick  and  cull.  It 
was  safe  to  slam  old  "Stought"  so  I  began  on  him — told 
how  he  thought  he  had  a  foxy  system  of  calling  on  us,  so 
as  to  give  everybody  a  turn,  and  yet  not  let  him  know  when 
the  turn  was  due, — told  how  we  solved  it  in  two  days,  so 
that  the  whole  class  could  slumber  while  we  three  self-ap- 
pointed monitors,  armed  with  duplicates  of  Stought's  list, 
kept  watch.  "Hey,  Timmy  Lynch!  You  come  next.  Tell 
'Celery'  that  he  follows  you." 

Told  of  Stought's  habit  of  blushing  and  cropping  his 
eyes  when  one  stared  hard  at  him,  whereby  one  Neal  Luther 
Hoskins,  A.  B.  JM.  D.  forced  him  to  drop  his  gaze  upon 
his  desk  for  a  brief  interval,  during  which  the  future  hope 
of  the  medical  fraternity  tip  toed  out  of  the  room.  Seeing 
the  success  of  which  manoeuver  numerous  and  sundry 
other  seekers  after  knowledge  of  the  German  tongue,  among 
them  Charles  Albert  Folsom,  Frank  Clarence  Staley  and 
E.  Grout  Baldwin,  followed  his  example.  Told  how  Stought 
finally  woke  to  find  half  the  class  gone  and  the  other  half 
in  silent  spasms  of  joy  (not  the  "hot  thermometer"). 

I  told  of  Louis  Dow  and  his  method  of  calling  on  us. 
One  day  he  began  with  Mr.  A.  M.  Abbott,  Mr.  E.  A.  Abbott, 
Mr.  Adams,  (this  was  Greek,  so  Manchester  Rab  and 
Charlie  Adams  did  not  appear  on  the  roll)  etc.  And  next 
day  he  would  begin  with  Mr.  Woodward,  Mr.  Woodman, 
Mr.  Wood,  etc.,  and  work  his  way  upward.  I  told  how  one 
day  "Pap"  would  get  the  first  five  lines  (it  was  Herodotus) 
and  the  next  day  none,  the  next  day  the  first  five  lines,  etc. 
Told  how  concerned,  perplexed,  etc.,  Louis  was  when  Pap 
flunked  the  exam  and  how  he  put  him  through  on  the 
strength  of  his  brilliant  class  record. 

85 


I  told  how  Asakawa  tried  for  the  English  prize  and 
was  informed,  when  he  inquired  his  fate,  "I  am  very  sorry, 
Mr.  Asakawa.  You  just  missed  that  prize.  You  came 
very,  very  close,  indeed,  to  getting  it."  How  the  members 
of  the  faculty  laughed  as  I  gave  Kan-Ichi's  answer.  "I 
have  seen  fourteen  fellows  to  whom  you  have  told  the  same 
thing  already !"  And  then  I  told  how  I  had  found  Asa- 
kawa writing  an  essay  and  had  said  to  him :  "Hello,  Asa- 
kawa !  Writing  an  essay  for  L.  P.  ?"  "L.  P.  ?  L.  P.  ?  Who 
is  L.  P.?  L.  P.  Emery?  I  thought  he  was  F.  P."  "No, 
no,  think— L.  P."    "Oh,  oh,  oh!  Leg-Pooler!" 

Then  I  told  of  the  grotesque  fashion  of  wearing  frag- 
mentary patches  of  beard  that  broke  out  in  the  college  dur- 
ing the  winter  of  1897-8;  told  of  the  costume  of  "Hoss" 
with  its  big  patch  of  sandpaper  firmly  anchored  to  the  un- 
derside of  the  right  leg  of  his  corduroys  by  big  copper  rivets. 
Told  of  his  appearance  in  Clothespins'  class  in  the  bottle 
green  revolutionary  uniform  with  the  bright  scarlet  jersey; 
told  of  the  roar  of  applause  that  followed  Clothespins'  re- 
mark that  "it  is  the  privilege  of  genius  to  dress  eccentrical- 

ly." 

I  tried  to  get  Hoss  to  tell  the  last  rejoinder  of  Clothes^ 
pins,  for  he  had  corrected  me  when  I  told  it  in  Detroit  to 
Mrs.  Hoss; — but  he  declined. 

I  told  of  Stubby  and  his  genius  for  twisting  Vinogra- 
dov into  Vinodograff  and  remunerate  into  renumerate.  One 
of  our  authors  was  named  H.  deB.  Gibbons.  His  middle 
name,  I  suppose,  was  deBeaudoin — Bennett  or  something 
like  that.     Stubby  insisted  on  calling  him  deGibbins. 

I  told  of  various  devices  for  beating  the  game  at  exam 
time;  how  one  fellow  used  to  wear  a  cuff,  loaded  with 
chemical  formulae,  on  his  ankle;  how  one  '97  man  passed 
in  a  little  paper  with  his  exam  book  which  read  "For  Boyle's 
law,  left  hand  lower  vest  pocket ;  for  Avogadro's  law,  right 
hip  pocket;  for  Newton's  laws,  look  at  watch;  for  defm* 
:ons,  up  right  sleeve;"  etc.,  etc. 


86 


I  told  the  story  of  the  class  in  Greek  Art  (capital  ART, 
like  Murphy's  course  in  George  Ade's  College  Widow)  and 
how  Pete  Adams  and  Jim  Richardson  and  Doc  Hawkes 
and  myself  used  to  string  Georgie  D.  along  from  day  to  day, 
getting  him  started  on  the  beauties  of  the  Giustiniani  Pallas, 
and  doing  absolutely  no  work,  until  one  day  he  detected  a 
little  suppressed  gleam  of  amusement  in  somebody's  eye 
as  he  fell  for  some  skillfully  worded  question.  Thereupon 
he  ordered  us  to  prepare  about  two  pages  of  German  in  a 
book  on  mythology  and  antiques  that  nobody  in  the  class 
could  translate  except  Pete  and  Jim  Rich. — It  was  the  art- 
icle on  Athene,  as  I  remember  it. — We  were  panic-stricken. 

"Do  I  understand  that  we  have  to  translate  this  whole 
passage?"  said  I. 

"Absolutely!"  said  GeOrgie  D.  looking  like  Ajax  defy- 
ing the  lightning. 

"By  next  Tuesday?"   (This  was  on  Saturday.) 

"Absolutely !" 

Then  I  told  how  two  of  us  had  slipped  the  book  down 
behind  some  others  in  the  bookcase  that  would  never  be 
used,  and  then  let  Georgie  overhear  us  cursing  the  selfish 
guy  that  had  swiped  the  book  for  his  own  purposes,  and 
denied  the  rest  of  us  the  rare  privilege  of  perusing  its 
pages.  I  told  of  the  air  of  lofty  contempt  for  our  help- 
lessness with  which  Georgie  came  to  our  rescue,  and  how 
this  attitude  changed,  first  to  uneasiness  and  then  to  blaz- 
ing wrath  as  he  discovered  that  the  volume  was  missing. 

For  two  days  we  did  no  further  work  while  Georgie 
paced  up  and  down  in  front  of  the  class  the  whole  hour,  fir- 
ing vollies,  regular  Demosthenean  philippics,  at  the  un- 
known, but  present,  culprit.  I  did  not  dare  quote  his  sum- 
ming up,  his  giddy  peroration.  He  would  take  three  long 
strides,  almost  doing  the  split  to  stretch  them  into  regular 
man's-size  steps,  glare  savagely  at  some  one  of  the  fellows 
that  he  suspected  of  electing  the  course  for  some  other 
purpose  than  an  interest  in  Myron,  Skopas  or  Praxiteles, 


87 


jerk  out  a  biting  phrase,  stride  three  more  times,  glare  at 
another  low-hanger,  fire  another  shot,  etc.,  etc. 

You  must  imagine  this  discourse  interrupted  by  strides 
and  glares : 

"Now  if  I  knew  who  had  that  book — (glare  at  George 
Rounds)  I  would  ask  some  of  you — (glare  at  Hodgkins) 
to  bring  him  up  to  my  house — (glare  at  Doc  Chandler,  97J, 
98^)  and  get  the  hose  out — (glare  at  "Pap")  and  soak  the 
wretch — (glare  at  Hodge,  while  Jim  Rich  and  Pete  Adams 
doubled  up  with  joy)  and  wash  his  exterior,  at  least!" 
(Glare  at  George.) 

I  told  how  Ikey  and  Donnyhoo,  questioning  how  a  cer- 
tain English  professor  could  have  time  to  correct  all  those 
daily  themes  when  he  drove  around  the  country  so  much 
and  played  so  much  golf,  put  a  tiny  drop  of  mucilage  in 
the  fold  of  each  sheet  of  their  essay  paper.  The  two  themes 
came  back,  with  mucilage  intact,  one  marked  V.  G.,  the 
other  F. 

Then  I  had  hoped  to  tell  of  the  many  skirmishes  of 
Joe  Edwards  and  myself  with  that  "strong,  perseverin' 
man,"  John  K.  Lord.  They  would  fill  a  chapter  in  them- 
selves. 

I  remember  how  one  day  Joe,  who  was  just  beginning 
Chemistry  told  us  that  he  had  learned  that  K  was  the 
symbol  for  potassium.  That  afternoon  he  and  I  walked 
into  the  North  Latin  Room  in  advance  of  the  rest  of  the 
class.  No  Johnny  K.  in  sight.  Whereupon  Joe  sung  out, 
in  a  stentorian  bellow  "Where  is  old  Jack,  old  Jack  Potas- 
sium?" 

,  "Oh,  good  afternoon,  Mr.  Edwards;  good  afternoon, 
Mr.  Benezet,"  said  Johnny,  stepping  out  from  behind  the 
furthest  pillar.  (You  recall  those  big  square  pillars  in  the 
room.) 

Bill  Colbert  and  his  relations  with  Charlie  D.  Adams 
and  Frankie  Sherman  would  have  filled  up  another  hour. 


88 


I  would  have  loved  to  tell  of  "Spade's"  famous  outline 
in  mediaeval  history,  which  got  Eric's  goat,  and  sent  the 
class  into  convulsions,  and  of  Buck's  recitation  on  the  re- 
lations between  Cluny  and  Rome  in  the  I2th  century. 
"Waal,  you  see,  Cluny,  he  went  down  to  Rome — !" 

There  was  the  day  when  the  fellows  hired  two  grind- 
organ  men  to  play  different  tunes,  simultaneously,  under 
the  east  and  west  windows,  respectively,  of  Dartmouth 
Hall,  until  Stought  was  nearly  beside  himself. 

No  doubt  you  recall  Cav's  giving  the  bag-piper  half  a 
dollar  to  go  up  and  play  in  his  room  in  Dartmouth  Hall. 

"No,  no,"  answered  the  canny  Scot,  "the  professors, 
they  no  like  us  to  play  in  the  beeldings." 

"Well  let's  see,"  said  Cav,  "here's  one  of  them  now. 
Professor,"  said  he,  touching  his  cap  to  Mort  Tuttle  '97, 
"would  there  be  any  objection  to  my  taking  this  man  up 
into  my  room  to  play?" 

"Certainly  not,  Mr.  Cavanaugh,"  answered  Tuttle,  sal- 
uting.   The  bunch  saluted  and  Tuttle  passed  on. 

"Here  you  are,  old  man;  this  way,"  said  Cav,  leading 
the  piper,  with  pipes  piping  full  blast,  straight  into  the  room 
where  we  were  reciting  to  Stought. 

Tableau,  red  light  and  curtain. 

I  could  go  on  all  night.  ^But  you  already  have  twice  as 
much  as  you  want. 

Yours, 

Bennie. 

It  might  reasonably  be  supposed  that  after  such  a  day 
Ninety-Nine  would  have  been  willing  to  go  to  bed.  The 
effect  of  the  Chantant,  however,  was  intoxicating, — not 
that  the  mild  punch  served  through  the  audience  while  the 
stage  was  being  set  for  the  play  is  open  to  suspicion,  but 
the  whole  affair  had  been  rejuvenating.  Sleep  was  abnor- 
mal. 

Then  too,  there  had  been  an  after  Chantant-lunch  at 

89 


Scotty's  where  Pitt  and  the  others  had  bought  out  the  food 
supply.  Trays  of  pint  milk  bottles,  crullers  served  on  canes, 
sandwiches  and  coffee.  Not  supper,  not  breakfast.  "Jam- 
boreeing"  George  called  it  in  the  Vicennial  song;  and  "jam- 
bo.reeing"  will  have  to  do.  Once  in  a  while  some  other  reun- 
er  and  would-be  rejuvenator  poked  his  head  in  only  to  be 
greeted  with  a  chorus  of  "All  sold  out  !" 

Back  to  Middle  Massachusetts.  Out  came  the  piano 
from  its  safe  resting  place  in  the  North  Hall  room  and  the 
Chantant  sequel  was  instantly  in  full  swing.  Cav  was  at  the 
piano,  taking  up  great  handfuls  of  chords.  At  his  ear,  and 
beside  and  behind  him,  Bennie  whispered  and  prompted  and 
brooded,  alive  with  the  music  and  poetry  of  it  all.  At  times 
with  a  swift  motion  he  furnished  a  missing  chord.  Mrs. 
Gannon  did  an  impromptu  solo  dance  which  George  pro- 
mised to  include  in  the  next  '99  program.  Pitt  started  to 
prompt  Cav  on  the  air  of  "At  the  end  of  the  rainbow  is  hap- 
piness," and  finished  by  singing  it  all  himself.  Out  came 
George  with  a  new  song,  Joe  Hobb's  version  of  "Till  we 
meet  again,"  received  just  too  late  to  be  printed  in  "Ninety- 
Nine's  Own  Songs." 

TILL  WE  MEET  AGAIN 

There's  a  song  in  the  land  of  our  Mother 

Each  true  heart  has  heard  with  a  sigh 

Over  the  dear  mem'ried  halls 

Its  sweet  echo  falls 

As  her  loyal  sons  bid  her  good-bye. 

CHORUS 

Smile  awhile,  Old  Mother,  fond  and  true 
As  the  years  roll  by,  we'll  come  to  you 
Then  our  skies  will  seem  more  blue 
When  to  Dartmouth's  halls  we  hasten 
Campus  lights  will  gleam  so  cheerily 
Every  day  will  be  a  memory 
We'll  work  and  pray  each  day  for  thee 
Till   we  meet  again. 

90 


A  Moment  with  "Clothespins' 


;|:::iw-r;;:;:*i 


The  Hill  Called  Happy 


Hungry  As  Well  As  Happy 


Its  sweet  minor  melody  caught  the  ear  at  once,  and  it 
was  sung  through  with  a  will. 

"Good  boy,  Joe,"  called  Bob.  But  Joe  was  not  there  to 
hear,  for  he  had  had  to  take  the  Sunday  afternoon  train 
back  to  Boston. 

Two  o'clock  struck.  Several  ladies  went  upstairs.  Re- 
luctantly the  others  and  the  men  began  to  follow.  An  auto 
horn  blew  outside,  Dave  Storrs  and  Bill  Currier  had  come 
to  motor  Win  Adams  and  K.  Beal  to  the  morning  train  for 
Boston.  Between  Hanover  and  the  June  the  night 
wind  blew  sharp  and  cool.  And  back  in  Middle  Massachu- 
setts the  lights  went  out  one  by  one.  Even  the  Huckinses 
and  the  Eastmans  stopped  "visiting"  after  a  time,  while  the 
Executive  Committee  dissolved  its  post-Chantant  session  as 
the  first  morning  cock  crow  announced  that  ordinary  folks 
were  beginning  to  get  ready  for  a  new  day. 


THE  CLASS  MEETING 
Monday  Morning,  June  23 


Again  that  inexorable  Time  Table !  Out  came  the  De- 
cennial linen  dusters  and  tall  hats  from  their  five-year  slum- 
bers. Out  burst  Joe  Gannon's  relentless  "Fa-a-all  in !"  and 
soon  the  Campus  grass  yielded  once  more  to  the  firm  and' 
stately  march  of  the  '99  host.  The  youth-reviving  thrill  of 
the  Chantant  and  its  all-night  sequel  had  worked  its  final 
miracle,  and  as  Freshmen  again,  each  in  his  accustomed 
place  of  twenty-four  years  back,  the  brotherhood  of  '99 
stood  or  sat.  There  were  gaps  a-many  where  that  lover  of 
a  "shining  mark"  had  struck  down  kindly  faces  and  warm 
hearts,  or  where  the  stern  summons  of  imperative  duty  had 
forbidden  that  the  physical  presence  should  that  morning 
fill  its  waiting  niche.     Put  filled-out  chests  and  broadened 


91 


shoulders  closed  the  spaces  in  the  ranks.  And  in  the  front 
row  boys  and  girls,  a  whole  line's  width,  gave  proof  that  '99 
traditions  were  not  born  to  die.  Though  many  a  frontal 
lock  or  mop  of  hair  had  beaten  an  enforced  retreat,  to  com- 
pensate, a  lusty  vine  had  covered  the  once  bare  stone  arch 
and  though  the  walk  in  front  showed  the  cracks  of  time, 
the  same  numerals  of  '99  stood  out  with  a  distinctness  that 
seemed  to  express  the  indomitable  spirit  which  they  typify. 
But  the  sky  was  overcast  and  threatening,  and  there  was 
still  the  picture  on  the  steps  of  Dartmouth  Hall  to  be  taken. 
Wives  and  friends  and  children  added  made  a  goodly  group. 
See  for  yourselves,  you  who  were  not  there,  and  register  in 
the  deepest,  safest  chamber  of  your  memory  the  solemn 
vow: 

Vicennial  gathering  saw  us  not 
Husband  and  wife,  and  youth  and  tot, 
But  when  the  years  count  twenty-five 
Dartmouth  shall  see  us  if  alive. 


Buy  a  little  iron  savings  bank  and  a  five-year,  line-a-day 
diary  tomorrow  and  put  that  sentiment  down  as  a  sacred 
New  Year's  resolution  under  January  1,  1920,  January  1, 
192 1,  January  1,  1922,  January  1,  1923,  and  January  1,  lp2 k. 
And  every  time  you  come  to  one  of  those  dates  put  a  big 
round  nickel  in  the  bank  for  everybody  in  the  family.  And 
don't  draw  it  out  a  week  later  either  to  pay  the  coal  bill. 

Well,  business  is  business,  so  there  had  to  be  a  class 
meeting.  Dartmouth  A  was  the  place.  First  when  Field  Mar- 
shal Joe  had  enforced  something  resembling  parliamentary 
order,  Jim  Barney  presented  Buck,  in  behalf  of  the  Class, 
a  colonial  pewter  mug  for  coming  the  longest  distance  to 
the  Reunion.  Buck's  response  was  unpremeditated  and  in 
his  best  humorous  vein,  but  the  secretary  has  been  unable 
to  secure  from  Skeet  or  Chuck  or  Lena  or  any  other  source 
an  authentic  version  of  it.     But  it  sparkles  in  the  memory 


92 


of  those  present  like  that  long-sought  but  not-to-be-secured 
shining  carbuncle  of  Hawthorne's  tale. 

Then  the  ladies  took  a  hand  again.  Up  stepped  Mrs. 
Greenwood  and  flourishing  a  round  piece  of  tinware  as  big 
as  a  saucer  with  the  numerals  '99  upon  it,  summoned  forth 
the  redoubtable  author  and  cop  of  the  Morality  Playette. 
When  he  stood  in  apprehensive  silence  before  her  she  pro- 
nounced the  following : 

"Mr.  Donnie  Donahue, 
The  ladies  would  like  to  present  to  you 
In  appreciation  of  your  lovely  play 
This  medal,  on  your  chest  to  lay — 
'Police  '99.' 


i    55 


Donnie's  reply  to  this  poetical  onslaught  was  inaudible, 
but  if  a  movie  camera  had  been  present  to  catch  his  gestures 
and  gesticulations,  the  inimitable  motions  of  his  hands,  fing- 
ers, arms,  and  mouth,  all  as  if  he  were  uttering  a  speech 
of  profound  gratitude,  then  indeed  there  would  be  side- 
splitting laughter  in  the  sage  garden  of  the  Muses,  as  there 
was  then  in  Dartmouth  A. 

There  came  next  like  a  thunderbolt  from  the  blue  the 
resignation  of  George  Clark  from  the  secretaryship  which 
he  had  filled  with  unexampled  distinction  for  five  years. 
There  was  unanimous  dissent,  Jim  Richardson  proposed 
life  tenure,  others  moved  heaven  and  earth  to  shake  the 
Secretary's  purpose.  But  he  was  adamant.  His  argument 
in  brief  was  that  '99  had  been  standing  for  a  five-year  rota- 
tion of  secretaries,  that  it  was  a  right  policy,  and  that  it 
wouldn't  be  right  to  give  it  up  as  a  policy ;  that  he  had  been 
originally  elected  on,  that  understanding ;  that  a  new  secre- 
tary was  like  kneading  dough  over  from  a  different  angle ; 
etc  ,  etc.  At  last,  with  a  friendly  little  ache  in  their  hearts, 
but  with  the  recognition  that  as  always  they  must  bow  to 
the  will  of  their  leader  even  in  this  latest,  maddest  wish 


93 


they  accepted  the  inevitable,  and  "took  a  chance"  on  K.  Beal 
for  five  years.    And  K.,  being  absent,  became  "it." 

Nor  were  all  their  troubles  over  then,  for  Warren  Ken- 
dall likewise  insisted  on  retiring  after  ten  years'  service  on 
the  Executive  Committee  The  opposition  was  as  cordial 
as  in  George's  case, — and  as  futile.  Buck  facetiously  rose, 
cried  out,  "I  am  Samuel  Burns,  Jr.,  of  Omaha,  Nebraska. 
I  nominate  myself  for  this  Committee.  Everybody  in 
favor?  Nobody.  Unanimously  not  elected,"  and  sat  down 
amidst  applause. 

Getting  down  to  serious  business,  Pitt  Drew  was  form- 
ally elected  to  fill  the  vacancy  left  by  Warren's  withdrawal. 
Pitt  like  K.,  was  not  at  the  meeting.  Mrs.  Drew  dramatical- 
ly interposed  at  that  moment  to  inquire,  "Is  there  any  of 
the  Executive  Committee's  work  that  a  man's  wife  can  do? 
Because  if  there  is,  he  mustn't  be  elected."  But  the  steam 
roller  was  now  running  ponderously  and  smoothly,  and  Jim 
Barney,  Treasurer  and  senior  member  of  the  new  commit- 
tee, entered  into  his  second  five-year  period  of  service  with 
K.,  and  Pitt  as  co-agents.  By  a  happy  inspiration  on  some- 
body's part,  Ex-Secretaries  Elmer,  Donnie  and  George  were 
made  ex-officio  members  of  that  Executive  Committee. 


THE  '94  TEA 


After  the  Class  Day  exercises  in  the  afternoon  came  the 
christening  of  Leon  in  Pap's  room.  Then  with  Leon  on 
one  arm  and  the  fair  Lena  on  the  other,  Hawley  Chase 
made  a  profound  and  dignified  address  committing  the 
precious  pair  to  the  custody  of  the  '99  archives  until  1924. 

But  this  solemn  function  was  only  introductory  to  the 
great  social  event  of  the  day, — the  reception  of  the  Class 

94 


of  '94  to  the  Class  of  '991  at  the  former's  headquarters  at 
Wheeler  Hall.  This  was  an  event  not  down  on  the  '99  Time 
Table  at  all  and  it  was  as  hospitable  a  surprise  to  us  as  was 
our  own  Chantant  to  '94  the  night  before. 

Governor  Bartlett  was  of  course  the  lion  of  the  occa- 
sion, who  shared  the  honors  with  Mayor  Adams  of  Spring- 
field, Congressman  Burroughs,  and  Judge  Allen.  Major 
Robert  P.  Johnston,  known  more  familiarly  to  a  few  inti- 
mate friends  as  "Bob"  was  as  usual  in  attendance  upon  His 
Excellency.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  Bob  carried  some  responsi- 
bility that  day  for  there  had  come  to  him  straight  from  the 
National  Capitol  a  caution  to  beware  of  Bolshevist  attacks. 
It  appears  then  that  to  Bob  and  to  the  other  members  of 
the  Governor's  staff,  the  credit  must  be  given  for  the  peace- 
ful conditions  under  which  the  friendly  and  social  affair 
came  off.  All  over  the  lawn  in  front  of  Wheeler  Hall  the 
'94  ladies  busied  themselves  in  making  the  '99  ladies  feel 
at  home.  Among  the  hostesses  was  the  sister-in-law  of 
Montie  Fuller. 

At  a  long,  prettily  decorated  table  near  the  door  of  the 
Hall  the  daughters  and  wives  of  '94  served  punch  and  ice 
cream  and  cake.  Surely  no  ice  cream  like  it  or  in  quanti- 
ties so  generous  had  ever  appeared  on  Hanover  greensward 
before.  Specially  prepared  in  Concord  and  expressly  de- 
livered for  this  occasion,  there  entered  into  its  flavor  the 
essence  of  sunlight  and  breeze  and  goodwill  that  makes  the 
afternoon  still  linger  in  our  memory.  Nor  could  the  friendly 
chaffing  of  '94  men  on  our  chevrons  of  reunion  credits,  or 
their  mock  insistence  that  they  never  bothered  with  insignia 
for  they  reuned  every  year,  disturb  the  genial  atmosphere 
of  cordial  Dartmouth  comradeship. 

THE  DINNER 

The  ladies  having  been  dismissed  to  the  play  and  Perry 
Fairfield  having  successfully  cleared  his  dining-room  of  the 
debris  of  ordinary  eaters,  the  '99  men  trooped  to  tlie  large 

95 


Inn  dining-room.  At  the  left  as  they  entered  was  a  long 
table  at  which  sat  Jerry  as  Toastmaster,  with  his  speaking 
cohort  and  guests.  The  other  men  sat  in  groups  at  smaller 
tables. 

Soon  after  the  dinner  began  there  came  in  by  special 
messenger,  George  Snowden, — the  indispensable  factotum  of 
all  '99  reunions — a  greeting  from  the  ladies.  The  greeting 
was  in  the  form  of  a  handsome  bouquet  of  rosebuds  for 
the  men  in  general  and  a  large  box  of  candies  for  George 
Clark  in  particular.  Accompanying  the  candy  was  a  verse 
of  appreciation,  which  having  been  read  to  the  company  by 
the  Toastmaster  and  the  sweets  duly  presented  on  a  silver 
salver  to  the  Secretary  by  George  Snowden,  there  was  loud 
applause : 

Here's  a  note  for  Georgie  Clark, 
Won't  you  read  it  out  ? 
His  were  always  coming. 
This  is  turn  about. 

Here's  a  box  for  Georgie  Clark 
Tied  with  Dartmouth  green. 
Men  beware !     It's  just  for  him — 
Manager  supreme. 

Give  a  cheer  for  Georgie  Clark 
Make  it  loud  and  clear 
None  could  plan  us  better  fun 
To  mark  the  passing  year. 

Then  accept,  Oh  Georgie  Clark, 
Caramel   and  peppermint,   halting  rhyme, 
And  all  the  rest. 
From  the  girls  of  '99. 

There  were  61  all  told  who  sat  down  to  the  excellent 
menu,  the  full  list  of  whom  is  printed  later.     But  especial 


96 


mention  must  be  made  here  of  Hon.  Melvin  O.  Adams  '71, 
genial  '99  comrade  of  long  standing,  and  Prof.  Charles 
Darwin  Adams  }yy,  one  of  the  most  beloved  teachers  of 
our  time.  Then  there  were  Sam  Smith,  who  had  been  able 
to  drive  over  with  friends  just  for  Monday;  and  Guy  Speare 
and  Herbert  Lyster  with  the  latter's  son  Leland,  who  after 
a  record  breaking  trip  by  collapsing  autos  and  procrasti- 
nating trains  were  able  to  spend  only  an  hour  or  two  around 
midnight  about  the  table  of  good  fellowship,  slipping  out 
then  for  the  early  return  train  north.  Especially  was  it  a 
pity  that  circumstances  should  have  so  contracted  Herbert 
Lyster's  first  reunion  and  made  it  possible  for  but  so  few  to 
meet  his  fine-appearing  son,  tall  like  Herbert  himself. 

In  the  course  of  the  dinner  Alfred  A.  Wheat  '89  came 
into  the  room  bringing  from  his  Class  cordial  greetings 
which  were  warmly  received  by  '99;  Jim  Richardson  was 
delegated  to  return  with  Mr.  Wheat  and  reciprocate  the 
good  wishes.  Also  later,  E.  K.  Hall  '94  spoke  on  behalf 
of  the  Trustees,  urging  contributions  to  the  Scholarship 
Funds  of  Dartmouth,  especially  for  the  sake  of  drawing 
back  to  the  College  the  boys  of  the  hill  towns  of  New  Hamp- 
shire and  Vermont. 

The  Tribe  in  Council 

The  after-dinner  program  was  called  the  "Tribe  in 
Council.  Big-Chief-Gerould,  with  War  Whoops  from  War 
Workers."  The  "Whoops"  were  from  George  Clark,  sub- 
stituting impromptu  for  Frank  Staley  detained  unavoidably 
in  Washington,  on  "Saving  Food";  Bill  Hutchinson  on 
"Growing  Food" ;  Joe  Gannon  on  "Putting  New  York  over 
the  Top,"  substituting  extemporaneously  for  Buck  Burns; 
Warren  Kendall  on  "Moving  Things" ;  Peddie  Miller  on 
"The  Other  Fellow" ;  Bob  Johnston  on  "Home  Fires" ;  Prof. 
Adams  on  "The  College  and  the  War",  Herb  Wattie  on 
"Experiences  in  Belgium,"  substituting  offhand  for  Sewall ; 
Cav  on  "Arms  and  the  Man,"  and  Nelson  Brown  on  "  '99 
and  the  War." 

97 


There  was  no  stenographer  present,  and  so  the  speeches 
are  only  in  part  reproduced.  Joe's,  Bob's,  Cav's  and  Nel- 
son's do  not  appear  at  all.  The  basis  of  Wattie's  talk,  his 
final  report  submitted  of  the  "Record  of  Co.  A.,  102nd 
Field  Battalion,  U.  S.  Army"  appears  at  the  end  of  the  sec- 
tion devoted  in  this  Report  to  personal  news  of  the  Class. 
These  five  speeches,  therefore,  we  regretfully  omit,  to- 
gether with  the  Toastmaster's  remarks  in  introducing  those 
speakers. 

One  story  that  Bob  told,  however,  has  been  preserved. 
Just  before  supper  he  went  into  the  barber's  across  the  way. 

"What  you  all  togged  out  for,  Bob?"  says  the  barber. 

"O",  I  says,  "I'm  a  Major." 

"Major!"  he  snorts.  "If  you're  a  Major,  I'm  a  French 
ace." 

Jerry  had  a  large  map  which  Bill  Sears  had  drawn 
for  him  on  which  the  United  States  and  France  and  Eng- 
land were  in  focus  and  the  rest  of  the  world  out  of  focus 
so  to  speak.  In  focus  part  he  had  points  where  '99ers  had 
been  both  in  France  and  in  the  United  States  in  war  acti- 
vity and  he  used  this  map  cleverly  in  introducing  the  speak- 
ers. 

Toastmaster :  One  of  the  most  interesting  and  valuable 
contributions  of  America  to  the  common  cause  was  food. 
Moreover,  the  self-discipline  of  America  in  saving  food  was 
a  good  thing  of  itself.  Without  the  efficient  Food  Admin- 
istration at  Washington,  the  glorious  achievements  of  the 
country  would  not  have  been  possible;  and  '99  had  an  im- 
portant part  in  that  administration.  Pearl  was  chief  of  the 
statistical  section  of  the  work  and  one  of  Hoover's  most 
valued  advisers;  Staley  was  close  to  the  centre  of  the  ad- 
ministration; Willard  compiled  facts  on  which  to  base  ac- 
tions ;  and  finally  George  Clark  was  summoned  to  Washing- 
ton, when  Pearl  was  sent  to  Europe,  because  they  could  no- 
where find  a  man  so  likely  to  deal  justly  with  questions  of 
commodity  prices  and  supplies.     The  Secretary  w'/ll  be  too 


98 


modest  to  tell  you  what  he  did,  but  he  will  tell  you  some- 
thing of  what  was  done. 


SAVING  FOOD 
G.  G.  C. 

Mr.  Toastmaster  and  Ninety- Niners,  those  inside  the  hall  and 
those  outside  (ladies  at  windows),  I  used  to  think  that  it  would 
be  the  height  of  accomplishment  to  be  tied  up  to  a  "System,"  say 
one  like  that  represented  by  our  distinguished  classmate  by  adoption, 
Mr.  Melvin  O.  Adams,  sitting  yonder,  that  to  be  so  tied  up  would 
free  one  of  all  worries  and  permit  life  to  be  enjoyed  along  broad 
gauge  lines  with  easy  gradients.  Tonight  I'm  of  the  very  opposite 
opinion.  For  the  last  week,  the  last  three  days,  the  last  day,  as  I 
have  felt  the  hand  of  fate  slowly  but  surely  substituting  me  for 
Frank  Staley  on  the  dinner  program,  I  have  inwardly  been  bewail- 
ing the  fact  that  the  Executive  Committee,  including  myself,  ever 
permitted  itself  to  get  tied  up  to  this  cut  and  dried  after-dinner  sys- 
tem of  toasts  that  should  show  a  cross-section  of  '99's  war  services. 

You  can't  appreciate  the  progress  of  my  trepidation.  First  as  I 
opened  Frank  Staley's  telegram  saying  the  Treasury  Department, 
whither  he  has  recently  gone,  refused  to  let  him  off  because  of  press 
of  work ;  next  as  Raymond  Pearl  on  the  golf  links  Saturday  an- 
nounced that  he  had  got  to  rush  to  Orono  to  receive  a  degree 
from  the  University  of  Maine  today.  Then  as  the  realization  broke 
upon  me  that  Tony  Willard  like  a  wise  owl  blinked  a  stand  pat  re- 
fusal from  his  limb  on  the  Washington  tree  and  that  I,  the  least 
worthy  and  least  fitted  of  the  '99  group  in  the  Food  Administration 
to  respond  for  the  work  of  that  group,  would  have  to  respond  to  the 
toast  of  "Saving  Food,"  just  to  keep  the  "system"  intact.  The  sins 
of  the  fathers  aren't  always  visited  upon  their  children.  Tonight 
they  are  visited  upon  the  fathers  themselves  and  you. 

Pity  me  in  pitying  yourselves.  Frank  Staley  with  the  buoyancy 
and  sparkle  of  Freshman  year,  that  are  still  his,  would  have  told 
you  much  better  than  I  can  the  history  of  Raymond  Pearl's  work 
as  head  of  the  Statistical  Division  of  the  Food  Administration. 
How  summoned  by  Mr.  Hoover  he  put  his  knowledge  of  how  to 
handle  statistics  in  the  modern  and  big  way  at  the  service  of  the 
Government  and  with  a  clerk  or  two  at  first,  expanded  to  a  force  of 
five  hundred,  with  a  dozen  sub-heads  and  whole  batteries  of  clerks 
keeping  an  unerring  hand  upon  the  supply  of  food  and  prices,  not 

99 


only  in  this  country  but  abroad.  How  he  beguiled  Tony  Willard 
to  dare  the  maze  of  Washingtonian  war  time  life  and  how  Tony 
became  an  expert  on  vegetable  and  fish  packs  and  milling.  How 
he  got  Steve  Chase  '96  to  head  the  meat  section  and  how  Steve's 
practical  proficiency  and  tact  proved  one  of  the  most  efficient  cogs 
in  the  Food  Administration  and  a  persona  summa  gratia  to  Mr. 
Hoover.  How  Pearl  curtly  captured  Frank  himself  by  telegraph  and 
put  him  in  charge  of  the  Reports  Section,  which  grew  under  his 
able  administration  by  leaps  and  bounds.  How  Mr.  Hoover  and 
Mr.  Rickard  then  stole  Frank  away  and  made  him  administrative 
manager  where  his  alertness,  tact  and  judgment  exerted  itself  and 
made  itself  felt  within  the  whole  Food  Administration  and  as  it 
reached  outside  to  the  public,  Frank's  modesty  might  have  made 
him  reticent  about  some  of  these  things,  but  I  doubt  if  in  speaking 
to  you  he  could  have  failed  to  unconsciously  show  you  some  of  these 
things  for  which  he  effectively  stood  and  which  made  his  work  in 
the  Food  Administration  a  credit  to  himself,  to  Pearl's  judgment 
of  him,  and  to  Ninety-Nine.  Probably  he  would  have  told  you,  too, 
about  another  Dartmouth  man,  Bob  Brown  '04,  whom  Pearl  asso- 
ciated with  Frank  in  the  Reports  Section  and  the  latter's  effective 
work.  Perhaps,  too,  of  Raymond's  book  on  "Food  Consumption  in 
the  United  States"  which  Raymond  pulled  together  along  with  his 
other  work  and  of  Raymond's  trip  to  Europe  to  represent  the 
United  States  in  the  inter-allied  Food  Council  held  in  Paris  and 
London  which  had  the  problem  of  allocating  to  each  of  the  allies 
their  proportion  of  the  available  food  supplies  and  finally  of  Ray- 
mond's towering  personality  in  the  Food  Administration  itself.  It 
was  all  something  '99  can  be  very  proud  of. 

Of  my  own  small  part,  very  minor  part  in  the  Statistical  Section 
of  the  Food  Administration,  I  feel  quite  sure  that  Frank  would 
have  glossed  it  over  and  said  that  all  it  amounted  to  was  the  oc- 
casional receipt  by  him  of  a  gray  colored  chart  like  this  with  a  few 
lines  on  it  that  looked  for  all  the  world  more  like  a  mess  of  mud- 
worms  crawling  across  its  surface  than  anything  intelligible.  I 
could  heartily  agree  with  him,  for,  after  one  had  spent  hours,  some- 
times weeks,  in  pulling  together  the  data  that  reduced  itself  finally 
into  such  form,  a  feeling  of  "the  incongruity  of  its  congruousness" 
asserted  itself.  It  is  therefore  only  because  I  do  not  want  to  get 
into  Donny's  classification  that  "modesty  in  '99's  circles  is  the  worst 
form  of  conceit"  and  because  it  woud  be  a  bad  example  at  the  very 
start  for  one  of  the  fathers  of  this  system  of  toasts  wherein  the  per- 
sonal element  is  the  main  thing,  to  be  silent  of  himself,  that  I  re- 
luctantly say  something  of  my  small  part. 

Briefly  Pearl  somehow  got  the  notion  that  Tim  Lynch  and  my- 
self were  not  doing  our  real  share  making  a  New  Hampshire  farm 

100 


speed  up  in  production  and  that  I  could  help  him  by  correlating  the 
food  prices  that  came  into  his  Statistical  Department  by  putting 
them  into  the  shape  of  price  indices.  Demurrers  with  respect  to 
fitness  for  the  work  were  of  no  avail.  After  certain  jeeing  and  haw- 
ing between  us  I  reached  Washington  two  hours  before  he  was 
leaving  for  Paris  and  between  throwing  things  into  his  steamer 
trunk  in  the  back  parlor  and  receiving  Italian  High  Commissioners 
in  the  front  parlor  he  gave  me  sort  of  swim-out  O'Grady  instruc- 
tions and  the  next;  morning  I  went  down  to  the  Food  Administra- 
tion: As  there  was  no  other  space  available,  I  fortunately  fell  heir 
for  the  period  of  Ray's  absence  to  his  own  private  office.  His  secre- 
tary, Frank  Staley,  and  Steve  Chase  and  all  the  other  heads  in  the 
Statistical  Branch  started  me  and  helpfully  and  patiently  brought 
all  the  knowledge  of  their  respective  branches  to  the  work  in  hand. 
Tony  Willard's  office  was  nearby.  Regularly  between  4  and  5  P.  M. 
Tony's  velasque  form  would  step  into  my  doorway  and  he  would 
come  in  to  smoke  his  cigarette  and  see  that  all  was  going  well. 
He  always  said  something,  for  instance  like  "Don't  get  me  started 
on  Roosevelt  for  I  might  do  something  rashly  Wilsonian"  to  cheer 
up  the  fagging  hours.  Eventually  a  kind  of  order  evolved  out  of 
chaotic  beginnings.  Tables  of  tonnage  production,  tonnage  mar- 
keted and  tonnage  consumption  for  the  primary  foods  were  evolved, 
for  a  series  of  weighing  factors,  for  a  new  series  of  index  figures 
on  producers'  prices,  wholesale  prices  and  retail  prices  and  event- 
ually too  the  indices  themselves  were  completed  and  graphed.  Event- 
ually there  were  various  sets  of  them  illustrative  of  various  phases 
of  price  situations.  -> 

Here  is  one  chart  which  shows  in  mudworm  fashion  the  curves  of 
three  sets  of  prices,  producers,  wholesale  and  retail,  on  a  pre-war 
base.  The  Food  Administration  had  three  problems,  conservation  of 
supply,  stimulation  of  production,  stabilization  of  prices.  All  three 
were  interwoven  and  bore  upon  one  another.  Sometimes  that  is 
forgotten  and  also  that  the  bulk  of  the  rise  in  prices  had  been  pre- 
vious to  the  establishment  of  the  Food  Administration.  But  while 
the  curves  rise  further  you  will  note  that  there  was  a  steadying,  a 
flattening  out  and  even  drops  in  them  after  the  Food  Administra- 
tion took  hand  in  things.  As  reflected  in  the  course  of  prices  itself 
these  mudworms  really  do  show  that  the  Food  Administration  was 
accomplishing  its  objectives. 

Another  chart  that  may  interest  you  is  that  on  Post-War  prices. 
On  Armistice  Day  the  question  arose  what  is  to  be  the  course  of 
post-war  prices?  What  were  the  price  curves  after  previous  wars, 
was  asked?  Those  might  be  suggestive  if  not  indicative,  ergo  the 
prices  during  the  Crimean,  Civil,  Franco-Prussian,  Boer  and  World 
War  were  taken  and  compared  with  the  pre-war  prices  in  each  case. 

101 


Note  on  the  chart  how  the  Civil  War  and  World  War  prices  in 
the  United  States  parallel  each  other  in  rise,  until  the  Food  Ad- 
ministration began  to  deflect  the  latter.  After  the  Civil  War  there 
was  an  immediate  drop,  not  so  with  other  wars.  Some  of  them 
snow  a  continuing  high  level.  In  Germany  there  was  even  a  rise 
after  the  Franco-Prussian  war  both  in  interior  produce  and  im- 
ported produce  before  the  kick  downward  came  and  the  most  you 
can  deduce  from  this  sort  of  comparison  upon  whether  post-war 
prices  in  the  United  States  today  will  drop  is  an  absolute  neutrality. 

The  foregoing  do  not  seem  to  have  much  bearing  on  "Saving 
Food."  They  were  merely  useful  tools  for  keeping  tabs  and  seeing 
whether  formulated  policies  were  acting  according  to  formulae.  It 
took  the  collection  of  many  varied  kinds  and  untold  bits  of  data 
by  Pearl's  department  to  give  helpful  direction  to  the  policies  to  be 
put  in  force.  Its  response  to  that  need  in  hours  of  emergency  like 
the  signing  of  the  Armistice, — when  not  only  the  United  States 
authorities  bound  for  the  peace  conference,  but  the  allies  themselves 
called  upon  it  for  data  upon  the  then  food  situation  and  the  Statis- 
tical Section  worked  night  and  day  to  put  this  in  shape  to  send  over 
with  the  President, — is  what  Pearl  contributed  in  the  way  of  war 
service  and  what  each  of  the  other  '99ers  with  him  tried  to  help  out 
with,  whether  in  large  or  small  measure,  according  to  the  parts  as- 
signed them. 

That  Ingersoll  watch  of  mine  that  Long  Jim  said  was  auctioned 
off  last  evening  for  75c  was  so  poor  that  the  fellow  insisted  that 
it  be  taken  back.  I  put  it  down  on  the  table  for  a  five  minute 
guide.  As  I  "have  glanced  at  it  from  time  to  time  I've  been  won- 
dering why  the  hands  didn't  move  faster.  I  see  now.  The  thing 
has  stopped.  Warren  says  I  have  been  going  for  twenty-five  min- 
utes. More  evidence,  Mr.  Toastmaster,  that  you  ought  not  to  have 
insisted  on  my  taking  Frank's  place.     I  apologize  to  you  all,  deeply. 

Toastmaster :  Food  could  not  be  saved  until  it  was  grown. 
War  gardens  and  war  farms  were  immensely  important. 
Here  again  '99  made  a  notable  record.  Hutchinson,  for 
example,  raised  two  blades  of  wheat  where  only  one  was 
raised  before.  I  am  going  to  call  on  Bill  Hutch  to  tell  us 
how  he  did  it. 

Mr.  Toastmaster,  Classmates,  and  Friends. 

When  we  were  in  the  Thayer  School  Professor  Fletcher  told 
us  that  there  were  once  two  brothers,  one  studied  law,  the  other 
engineering,  but  the  one  that  studied  engineering  practised  law  and 
the  one  that  studied  law  practised  engineering.     I  served  my  time 

102 


studying  agriculture  over  there  in  Norwich,  then  I  spent  some 
time  studying  engineering  over  here  in  Hanover,  now  I  am  apply- 
ing both  courses  to  agriculture  down  in  western  Pennsylvania. 
When  a  man  hears  the  name  of  Pittsburg  mentioned  he  thinks  of 
coal,  steel,  oil,  and  smoke.  We  live  about  fifteen  miles  out  of  Pitts- 
burg on  the  .edge  of  Washington  County,  in  the  midst  of  the  bitu- 
minous coal  region.  It  is  hard  to  realize  when  we  are  out  on  the 
surface  tilling  the  soil  that  down  two  or  three  hundred  feet  below 
there  are  hundreds  of  men  taking  out  a  seam  of  coal.  It  will  be 
years  before  the  Pittsburg  vein  of  coal,  on  which  they  are  now  work- 
ing, will  all  be  taken  out.  Every  few  feet  below  this  vein  of  coal 
there  are  a  number  of  other  veins  so  it  will  be  many,  many  years 
before  the  soft  coal  will  be  exhausted  in  this  section. 

We  are  fortunate  not  to  live  near  the  coke  regions  as  the  sul- 
phur fumes  from  the  coke  ovens  kill  nearly  all  of  the  vegetation. 

During  the  war  the  coal  miners  were  very  patriotic  and  worked 
hard  to  help  keep  the  world's  coal  bins  supplied.  When  the  nation 
called  for  more  coal  many  an  old  man  who  had  not  worked  in  the 
pit  for  years  put  a  pit  lamp  on  his  cap  and  started  for  the  mine. 
With  such  a  demand  for  labor,  not  only  in  the  coal  business  but  in 
the  manufacture  of  all  kinds  of  steel  and  iron  products,  with  high 
wages  and  eight  hour  day  to  boot  made  it  almost  impossible  to  se- 
cure farm  help.  At  the  same  time  Mr.  Hoover  asked  the  farmer 
to  grow  two  blades  of  wheat  where  he  had  formerly  grown  but  one. 
Not  only  that,  but  the  country  wanted  more  wool,  more  pork,  more 
beef  and  more  dairy  products. 

Our  county  agent  told  me  that  last  year  we  raised  about  160,000 
pounds  of  wool  in  our  county,  which  is  very  good  when  you  con- 
sider that  the  miners'  dogs  almost  drove  the  sheep  out  of  that  sec- 
tion. 

Now  Jerry  told  me  to  be  personal  but  I  don't  know  whether 
that  is  what  you  fellows  want  to  hear  or  not.  We  are  breeding  and 
raising  registered  Holstein  cattle.  Two  years  ago  we  remodeled 
our  dairy  barn,  put  in  cement  floors  and  mangers,  steel  stanchions 
with  water  bowls  between  each  two  cows  so  that  evefy  animal  can 
drink  fresh  spring  water  at  any  time,  with  plenty  of  light  and  venti- 
lation. In  fact  we  did  everything  we  could  to  make  the  cows 
comfortable  and  keep  them  healthy.  We  do  not  sell  certified  milk 
biit  one  of  the  secrets  of  success  in  the  dairy  business  is  to  have 
good  equipment.  It  is  hard  to  hire  competent  help  for  a  dairy  farm, 
but  with  modern  equipment  it  is  far  easier  to  hold  your  help. 

Some  of  the  things  that  we  do  to  hold  our  help  on  the  farm 
is  to  give  them  a  comfortable  house  to  live  in  so  that  the  wife  will 
not  want  to  move.     I  always  fat  them  a  pig  also,  and  when  I  plant 

103 


my  potatoes  I  put  some  in  for  the  hired  man  right  beside  by  own. 
He  also  keeps  his  cow  with  our  herd.  These  are  some  of  the  things 
wnich  help  to  keep  him  interested   in  the  business. 

In  spite  of  the  shortage  of  labor  last  year  we  increased  the 
wheat  acreage  in  our  country  to  about  20,000  acres  which  is  25% 
above  the  normal.  We  shall  cut  twenty-two  acres  at  "home  and  the 
prospects  are  that  we  shall  thresh  about  five  hundred  bushels. 

This  has  been  called  a  day  of  specialists.  The  lawyer,  the 
merchant  or  the  engineer,  each  must  specialize  along  his  line  of 
business  and  so  must  the  man  who  can  balance  the  ration  for  a 
dairy  cow  if  he  expects  to  win  in  his  especial  line.  Since  the  Civil 
War  the  majority  of  the  eastern  farmers  have  not  received  a  living 
wage  and  this  has  driven  a  great  many  young  men  from  the  farm. 
I  believe  the  time  has  come  when  a  man  who  is  qualified  can  make 
a  good  living  on  a  fertile  eastern  farm.  Our  children  never  saw  a 
wood  pile  until  they  came  to  New  England  about  a  month  ago.  At 
home  we  get  natural  gas  from  a  well  on  our  farm  which  furnishes 
us  with  free  light,  fuel,  and  power  for  the  gas  engine. 

If  you  should  ask  me  why  I  prefer  the  farm,  my  reply  would 
be  that  I  have  a  comfortable  home,  we  are  independent  and  we  all 
have  good  health  which  I  did  not  have  in  the  city. 

Toastmaster :  No  matter  how  much  food  was  raised  and 
saved,  no  matter  how  many  soldiers  were  trained ;  we  could 
never  have  made  a  beginning  towards  winning  the  war  if 
it  had  not  been  for  the  railroads.  The  human  animal  is 
harnessed  to  his  own  inventions.  It  was  the  Railroad  Ad- 
ministration that  kept  things  moving  over  the  rails,  and  a 
member  of  '99  was  shepherd  of  the  freight  cars.  Anyone 
who  has  watched  events  knows  how  important  Warren  Ken- 
dall's job  was,  and  how  well  he  did  his  work.  I  call  upon 
him  to  tell  us  about  war  transportation. 

The  reigning  Czar  of  '99,  through  his  toast-minister,  Captain 
Gerould,  has  asked  that  this  number  on  your  program  shall  be  a 
ten  minute  survey  of  "Moving  Things."  From  whence  came  this 
inspired  title  no  one  has  volunteered,  so  liberties  may  be  taken  with- 
out fear  of  transgression. 

No  form  of  emphasis  was  passed  along  with  these  two  words 
and  before  now  you  have,  with  me,  doubtless  wondered  where  to 
place  the  accent.  If  it  is  "moving  THINGS,"  I  am  it,  along  with  sev- 
eral thousands  of  others  thrust  involuntarily  and  otherwise  into  our 

104 


Nation's  Capitol  within  the  past  two  years.  For  I  have  five  times 
found  a  different  abiding  place — after  duly  paying  rents, — and  have 
eight  times  changed  my  place  of  labor ;  a  ninth  move  now  impends. 
That  you  should  have  the  slightest  interest  in  any  of  this  detail  is 
beyond  my  comprehension.  So  I  look  elsewhere  for  the  real  intent 
of  our  versatile  leader. 

To  change  the  accent  to  the  first  word  and  giving  my  title  the 
expression  "MOVING  things,"  opens  a  wide  opportunity  for  en- 
deavor as  applied  to  Washington.  However,  I  hesitate  to  start  any- 
thing as  there  is  no  end  to  available  material  from  Tony  and  his 
intricate  statistical  machinery  (and  the  operators,  of  course)  to  the 
ever  present  hum  of  the  airplane,  to  say  nothing  of  satrap  Burleson 
and  other  pests  in  power  which  if  not  present  in  body  are  there  in 
spirit  and  influence.  But  interesting  as  these  things  be,  I  suspect 
it  is  not  of  them  you  call  on  me  to  my  feet. 

There  is  but  one  form  of  emphasis  left, — that  which  places  the 
accent  on  both  words  "MOVING  THINGS"  and  I  will  briefly  out- 
line some  of  the  activities  of  the  Railroad  Administration,  particu- 
larly those  with  which  I  am  most  familiar.  At  the  outset  it  should 
be  made  clear  that  the  Railroads,  the  War  and  Navy,  the  Emergency 
Fleet  Corporation,  the  Housing  Commission  and  other  governmental 
agencies  were  indissolubly  mixed  in  the  one  paramount  aim  of  Win- 
ning the  War.  Each  has  been  an  auxiliary  of  the  other,  but  none 
could  function  without  the  Railroad.  It  was  the  cooperation  of  the 
whole  that  turned  the  trick.  Very  naturally  assistance  in  emergencies 
was  usually  sought  of  the  Railroads,  and  they  were  usually  and 
uniformly  THERE.  When  New  England  was  threatened  with  a 
Coal  Shortage,  with  double  the  normal  consumption  and  an  almost 
complete  loss,  due  to  the  German  submarine,  of  coastwise  shipping 
which  carries  at  least  half  the  normal  movement  of  coal  to  New 
England  shores,  it  was  put  up  to  the  Railroads  to  take  up  the  slack, 
and  they  did !  Early  in  1918  the  armies  of  our  Allies  were  on  re- 
duced rations  because  of  Food  Shortage  "over  there."  Unless  de- 
ficiencies were  caught  up  in  40  days,  general  surrender  seemed  in- 
evitable. Mr.  Hoover  fixed  the  necessary  requirements  and  the  sea- 
board food  stocks  from  that  time  to  the  present  have  b^en  kept 
ahead  of  shipping.     The  emergency  was  met. 

Sacrifices,  yes,  but  what  of  it?  What  measuring  stick  shall 
we  use  in  making  our  calculations?  What  has  been  our  sacrifice 
in  body  and  material  as  compared  with  that  of  others?  This  leads 
me  to  say  that  in  my  Washington  experience  human  nature  has  as- 
serted itself  as  never  before.  We  have  seen  both  the  strong  and  the 
weak,  but  I  regret  to  say  more  than  we  have  liked  of  the  purely  sel- 
fish side.  At  a  time  when  commercial  interests  generally  were  being 


105 


called  upon  to  sacrifice  in  the  interests  of  the  Government's  pro- 
gram for  Winning  the  War,  all  sorts  of  subterfuges  were  resorted 
to  by  individuals  for  purposes  of  circumventing  outstanding  trans- 
portation restrictions  various  authorities  had  felt  to  be  absolutely 
necessary  to  carry  out  the  program.  I  will  mention  but  an  instance 
or  two :  An  energetic  fellow  from  Brooklyn  called  persistently  on 
one  Railroad  Administration  official  after  another  in  the  interests 
of  shipping  a  "near  Beer"  of  his  manufacture  through  the  extremely 
dense  munition  manufacturing  and  shipbuilding  territory  located 
along  the  lines  of  the  railroads  between  New  York  and  Washington 
to  miscellaneous  points  in  the  south.  The  rail  lines,  in  this  stretch  of 
territory  were  staggering  under  a  load  never  previously  dreamed 
of  and  yet  this  man  made  as  much  rumpus  as  he  could  because  we 
denied  him  the  privilege  of  shipping  his  sloppy  product  to  the  south. 
He  got  all  possible  explanations  and  minutiae  of  sympathy.  An- 
other fellow,  this  one  of  Jewish  extraction,  after  every  possible  cour- 
tesy and  assistance  in  getting  material  through  to  fill  his  commercial 
orders  thought  to  increase  his  own  profits  by  falsifying  to  the  ex- 
tent of  using  the  name  of  the  Government  in  procuring  transporta- 
tion.    Needless  to  say  he  has  been  under  indictment. 

All  of  this  practice,  I  submit,  had  no  part  either  directly  or 
otherwise  in  Uncle  Sam's  program.  Probably  very  few  beside 
those  directly  concerned  fully  appreciate  the  burden  the  railroads 
have  borne  with  respect  to  the  transportation  of  troops.  It  requires 
a  brief  statement  of  figures  to  make  this  impressive.  From  Amer- 
ica's declaration  of  war  for  the  subsequent  two  years  or  up  to  April 
30,  1919,  there  were  handled  in  special  movements  about  14,400,000 
men.  This  includes  the  draftees  from  their  homes  to  the  camps, 
and  the  movements  from  one  camp  to  another  as  well  as  to  and 
from  the  ports  of  embarkation.  It  does  not  include  any  of  the  en- 
listed men  or  officers  who  have  travelled  singly  and  under  orders 
from  the  War  Department,  and  neither  does  it  include  the  constant 
and  heavy  movement  of  men  who  are  on  furlough.  To  transport 
this  soldiery  has  required  a  total  of  20,969  trains  averaging  12  cars 
each,  which  have  moved  an  average  of  803  miles  each,  or  a  total 
mileage  of  special  trains  of  over  16,800,000.  Expressed  in  car  miles 
this  movement  of  troops  ran  up  the  wonderful  total  of  202,000,000 
passenger  equipment  miles. 

There  have  been  some  complaints  made  that  passenger  service 
has  broken  down  but  it  impresses  me  that  with  the  above  facts  be- 
fore us  such  criticism  is  made  with  very  poor  grace.  History  does 
not  record  either  here  or  abroad  any  such  movement  of  troops 
as  the  American  Railroads  have  handled  and  all,  mind  you,  in  ad- 
dition to  the  regular  normal  passenger  travel.     May  I  ask  at  this 


106 


time  if  you  have  knowledge   of  any  train  accidents?     Is   not  this 
factor  of  safety  something  for  which  credit  may  be  taken? 

So  much  for  the  passenger  situation.  One  of  the  first  freight 
movements  the  railroads  were  called  upon  to  handle  was  110,000  car- 
loads of  lumber  from  points  in  the  South  and  the  extreme  Northwest 
to  the  various  cantonments  for  immediate  construction  purposes. 
Very  soon  the  shipbuilding  program  was  under  way.  Again  lumber 
was  mgved  long  distances.  Government  activities  sprang  up  here  and 
there,  and  particularly  in  the  eastern  territory.  All  of  these  added 
burdens  were  thrown  upon  the  railroads  and  while  it  is  true  com- 
mercial activity  was  to  some  extent  curtailed  by  transportation,  and 
to  the  extent  that  Government  requirements  were  paramount,  I  doubt 
if  anyone  suffered  much  and  there  are  no  cases  of  complaint  worthy 
of  mention  where  railroads  failed  to  meet  the  demands  of  the  war 
program. 

Not  alone  have  we  had  our  own  war  expansion  to  deal  with  but 
our  Allies  have  drawn  largely  upon  us,  as  we  all  know,  for  food 
necessities  and  otherwise.  One  very  small  item,  to  illustrate  the 
extent  of  the  complication,  if  you  please,  of  some  of  these  activi- 
ties. The  supply  of  tanning  extract  abroad,  a  very  necessary  war 
material,  and  used  in  large  quantities,  became  exhausted.  A  por- 
tion of  the  normal  supply  of  this*  commodity  comes  from  South 
America.  There  was  no  available  shipping.  We  must  meet  the 
deficit.  Tanning  extract  is  largely  manufactured  from  chemical 
wood,  so-called,  in  eastern  Tennessee,  West  Virginia  and  north- 
eastern Pennsylvania.  Wood  must  season  at  least  a  year  prior  to 
its  manufacture  into  extract.  There  was  no  time  to  lose  if  our  fast 
disappearing  supply  was  to  be  caught  up.  A  committee  represent- 
ing the  tanners  of  the  United  States  was  established  in  Washington 
and  we  worked  with  them  in  meeting  this  emergency.  Scores  of 
other  similar  situations  could  be  cited  but  it  would  be  the  same 
story. 

While  I  may  be  considered  a  bit  enthusiastic  about  the  accom- 
plishment of  the  railroads  in  the  crisis  through  which  we  passed 
I  feel  I  have  reason  to  be  proud  of  this  accomplishment,  partially 
because  of  my  very  humble  connection  with  the  Administration  at 
Washington. 

Probably  no  one  at  this  time  will  undertake  to  forecast  the  fu- 
ture. Those  of  us  in  Washington  are  too  near  to  get  a  proper 
perspective.  I  feel,  however,  mere  has  been  much  real  good  done 
through  conditions  which  have  been  forced  upon  us,  and  some  of 
which  will  be  lasting.  We  recognize  a  greater  degree  of  community 
of  interest  than  ever  before.  We  realize  and  appreciate  our  inter- 
dependence. These  factors,  to  be  successfully  met,  require  a  measure 

107 


of  administration  from  a  central  authority  which  it  seems  to  me  must 
inevitably  be  located  wherever  other  governmental  authority  may 
have  its  headquarters  and  this  of  course  means  Washington.  I 
look  to  see  Congress  enact  some  such  legislation. 

I  wish  I  could  pay  proper  tribute  to  the  other  '99  men  who  have 
been  in  Washington  within  the  two  year  period  just  passed,  not  that 
I  could  measure  their  deeds  as  of  more  account  than  those  of  others 
who  maihtain  the  usual  tenor  of  their  ways,  yet  some  I  know  made 
personal  sacrifices  and  were  able  to  quickly  adjust  themselves  to 
the  new  conditions  and  hence  felt  it  possible  to  heed  their  call,  and 
while  I  cannot  readily  detail  the  full  intent  and  meaning  of  all  their 
service  stripes  I  do  know  sufficient  to  assure  you  that  the  record  is 
a  most  faithful  and  honorable  one,  so  faithful  in  fact  that  con- 
science keeps  three  of  these  men  in  Washington  who  would  other- 
wise be  here.  The  real  tribute  ably  paid  and  to  be  paid  by  others  is 
to  those  of  our  number  who  went  overseas  and  to  whom  the  highest 
honor  and  glory  and  gifts  within  our  power  are  due  and  to  whom 
even  then  full  payment  can  never  be  made.  It  has  been  a  glorious 
achievement. 

I  may  be  accused  of  pan-ninety-nineism.  This  is  not  disturbing, 
for  we  have  twenty  years  behind  us  and  this  is  a  period  when  we 
may  properly  take  account  of  ourselves  and  reflect.  We  may  justly 
feel  proud  of  every  one  of  our  fellows,  all  of  whom  have  actually 
gone  out  and  done  something.  To  my  mind  Dartmouth  does  not 
possess  a  class  which  will  show  a  better  average  of  accomplishment, 
and  I  use  this  word  in  its  broadest  sense  and  not  in  a  mere  matter 
of  dollars  and  cents. 

Warren  C.  Kendall. 


At  this  point  the  Toastmaster  read  telegrams  from 
Willis  Hodgkins  in  the  Southwest,  and  a  cablegram  of 
greeting  from  Atwood  and  Martin  in  France.  Extracts  of 
letters  from  Ash,  Kimball,  Kirk,  and  Norton  were  also 
read,  as  well  as  an  affecting  post-card  written  to  the  Secre- 
tary by  Herbert  Collar  just  before  his  death  on  March  14. 
Mrs.  Collar  found  it  in  one  of  his  pockets  ready  to  mail.  It 
says : — 


108 


"Dear  George: — 

"(i)   We  plan  to  attend — male  and  females  (3). 

"(2)   By  train   from   Boston,  due  Hanover  3   P.  M., 
Saturday,  June  21. 

"Collar  Family/' 


Toastmaster :  There  is  no  point  in  arguing  whether  we 
went  into  the  war  for  our  own  sake,  or  for  the  sake  of 
other  peoples.  The  latter  motive  was  certainly  not  absent. 
The  time  has  come  when  nations  must  begin  to  look  out  for 
the  other  fellow  as  well  as  for  themselves.  Better  than 
any  one  else  in  the  class,  Peddy  Miller  knows  what  is  being 
done  in  this  country  to  that  end.  His  work  for  the  Czecho- 
slovak people  has  brought  him  into  contact  with  all  such 
movements,  and  he  has  played  an  exceedingly  important 
part  in  them.     I  call  on  Peddy  Miller. 


THE  OTHER  FELLOW 


The  Toastmaster  assigned  me  the  topic  "The  Other  Fel- 
low," saying  that  I  could  treat  it  in  any  way  I  wished,  provided 
I  told  about  myself.  This  reminds  me  of  a  Freshman  who 
came  to  my  room  once  when  I  was  in  college,  to  discuss  a 
theory  he  had  about  the  Alter  Ego.  Of  course,  to  a  philo- 
sophical monist  it  is  easy  to  discuss  anything  and  call  it  some- 
thing else,  and  still  be  true  to  the  principle  of  unity.  I  have 
dicovered  that  language  is  a  most  useful  method  of  conceal- 
ment. That  is  the  advantage  of  a  high-brow  vocabulary  which 
no  one  understands.  I  wanted  to  give  a  course  next  year  on 
"Contemporary  Radicalism,"  but  I  was  afraid  it  would  not  get 
by  the  censor,  so  I  called  it  "Present  Tendencies  in  Social 
Revaluation." 


109 


I  mention  all  this  to  prepare  you  for  the  pathological 
psychoses  about  which  I  am  going  to  talk  later.  The  vivid 
imagination  of  the  class  secretary  in  the  last  report  supplied 
all  the  information  possible  about  me  "as  such,"  so  I  must 
go  into  a  new  field.  My  experience  for  the  past  year  has  been 
rather  unique.  I  have  been  promoting  revolutions  and  meet- 
ing interesting  people;  my  principal  interest,  however,  lias  been 
neither  of  these  things,  but  the  development  of  a  psychological 
idea.  I  want  to  promote  revolution,  but  I  want  it  to  be  con- 
ducted in  a  saner  fashion   than  the   traditional  one. 

The  other  night  I  had  dinner  with  General  Garibaldi.  He 
is  a  typical  knight  of  the  Middle  Ages,  intelligent,  interesting, 
and  barbaric.  He  was  in  142  battles  before  this  war  began, 
preparing  for  the  revolution  which  he  felt  sure  was  eventually 
coming.  He  said  that  his  men  knew  that  if  he  captured  a 
German  town,  he  would  give  them  permission  to  sack  it  for 
six  hours;  and  when  I  said,  "That's  as  bad  as  the  Germans," 
he  replied,  "But  you  don't  know  how  bad  they  were,"  and  told 
us  some  things  he  had  seen.  Later  I  asked  him  what  the  Ital- 
ians would  do  if  the  Peace  Conference  did  not  give  them  Fiume. 
He  instantly  replied,  "We  will  join  the  Germans."  He  feels 
that  this  is  a  perfectly  consistent  attitude,  because  his  only 
means  of  measuring  values  is  military. 

The  principle  that  has  become  most  obvious  to  me  is  that 
the  conflict  of  groups  is  far  more  fundamental  than  the  con- 
flict of  individuals;  but  hitherto  men  have  concerned  them- 
selves only  with  the  conflict  itself,  and  not  with  the  method 
of  its   prosecution. 

I  think  if  we  can  analyze  the  effect  of  the  oppression  of 
one  group  by  another,  we  may  succeed  in  eliminating  oppres- 
sion. In  other  words,  we  must  substitute  a  scientific  state- 
ment or  classification  of  forces,  and  a  proper  adjustment  to 
them,  for  mere  reliance  upon  the  haphazard  methods  of  acci- 
dental social   evolution. 

Now  I  claim  that  this  is  high-brow  language  enough  to 
mislead  you  into  thinking  that  I  am  talking  about  almost  any- 
thing except  myself.  The  one  person  that  I  am  really  talking 
about  just  now  is  "Hobe."  The  following  letter  I  have  read  in 
a   number  of  places. 

"Our  immediate  ancestors,  fathers  and  grandfathers,  have 
felt  the  iron  heel  upon  their  necks  in  their  early  life,  and  in 
our  childhood  we  were  fed  with  stories  of  evictions,  landlord 
oppressions    and   religious   persecutions   which    sent  us    to   bed 

110 


night  after  night  in  fear  and  trembling  lest  before  morning  some 
Englishmen  get  into  the  house  and  snatch  the  children  away 
to  chains  and  slavery.  Growing  older  we  went  into  the  world 
and  met,  more  often  than  not,  petty  persecutions  at  the  hands 
of  those  who  did  not  understand  us  and  the  things  we  held 
to  be  sacred.  We  saw  in  it  all  the  same  spirit  of  persecution 
translated  to  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  which  drove  our  fathers 
from  the  land  of  their  birth;  and  we  have  come  to  full  man- 
hood carrying  chips  on  our  shoulders  because  of  the  things 
which  men  have  said  and  done  to  us  and  against  us  on  account 
of  our  race   and  our   religion."  , 

Carrying  a  chip  on  one's  shoulder  through  life,  is  what  I 
mean  by  a  pathological  psychosis.  The  Don  Quixote  stunt 
I  am  now  engaged  in  is  trying  to  get  rid  of  pathological  psy- 
choses. The  reason  for  this  predilection  of  mine  is  probably 
that  at  Dartmouth  I  got  such  an  idea  of  democracy  that  it 
has  become  a  religion  with  me  to  try  to  promote  it.  Perhaps 
one  of  the  reasons  I  have  taken  up  the  Irish  question  is  be- 
cause Donahue  has  always  held  so  sacred  the  democracy  of 
Dartmouth,  that  the  association  of  ideas  put  it  into  my  mind. 
The  support  of  the  Irish  cause  is  one  of  the  two  things  I  have 
taken  up  since  the  last  report,  and  I  have  learned  to  do  it  in 
.such  a  way  that  everybody  approves   except   the   English. 

The  other  activity  is  to  help  with  the  Korean  revolution. 
I  have  the  distinction  of  being  the  Vice  President  of  the  League 
of  Friends  of  Korea.  There  were  only  six  persons  present 
when  the  election  occurred,  so  the  selective  draft  for  officers 
was  not  overcrowded.  But  we  must  make  the  Japanese  realize 
that  notwithstanding  their  economic  necessity,  or  their  cul- 
tural superiority  to  the  Koreans,  if  the  present  oppressive 
domination  continues,  it  will  develop  an  Asiatic-Irish  situa- 
tion. It  is  already  well  on  its  way.  I  recently  spent  a  day 
with  the  president  of  the  provisional  government  of  the  Repub- 
lic of  Korea.  It  is  so  obvious  that  the  present  Japanese  policy 
can  never  succeed,  that  my  safety,  as  well  as  that  of  the  rest 
of  the  world,  demands,  that  the  relationship  between  countries 
shall  be  made  rational  and  just. 

The  same  thing  is  true  of  the  relation  between  classes. 
When  one  class  exploits  'another,  it  is  laying  up  for  itself  a 
store  of  hatred  which  will  break  out  in  all  sorts  of  dangerous 
and    distressing   forms. 

Psychical  laws  are  just  as  definite  as  physical  laws;  and 
when  they  are  understood,  the  processes  of  society  can  be  ad- 

111     • 


justed  to  them  just  as  the  processes  of  mechanics  are  adjusted, 
and  the  hitherto  impossible  has  been  constructed. 

When  Bill  Colbert  as  a  very  fresh  Freshman  was  being 
interviewed  by  the  Rho  Kaps,  he  told  them  that  being  loyal 
to  one's  class  was  necessary  to  make  one  loyal  to  the  college. 
The  Freshman-Sophomore  conflict  is  a  perfectly  normal  ex- 
perience in  the  gaining  of  group-solidarity;  but  when  "Bill"  be- 
comes a  fellow-conspirator  with  "Hobe"  against  injustices 
which  neither  of  them  can  experience  except  vicariously,  the 
conflict  has  abnormal  elements  in  it,  and  they  constitute  the 
basis  pf  revolution. 

I  look  forward  to  a  time  when  the  psychopathic  result  of 
unjust  relations  between  nations  and  classes  shall  be  so  clearly 
understood  that  national  psychiatrists  will  take  the  place  of 
physical  revolutionists.  The  reason  I  know  that  this  is  not 
an  empty  dream  is  because  the  "Other  Fellow"  is  so  much  like 
me.  The  world  has  got  to  be  saved  through  what  sociology 
hopes  may  sometimes  be  a  Science  of  Society. 

"Jerry's"  university  does  not  admit  that  the  germs  of  such 
a  science  yet  exist.  The  last  time  I  was  in  Princeton,  standard 
books  had  not  yet  got  into  their  library.  Nothing,  however, 
gives  me  greater  satisfaction  than  what  little  I  have  done  for 
the  "Other  Fellow,"  whether  as  nation  or  individual;  and  what 
I  have  done,  I  did  not  do  for  him  as  such,  but  because  I  was 
trying  to  identify  myself  with  eternal  laws.  While  I  feel  equally 
at  home  with  Priest,  Rabbi,  and  atheist,  my  experience  daily 
gives  me  a  firmer  faith  that  the  seeking  of  eternal  laws  brings 
one  under   the   guidance   of  the   Divine   Order. 


Toastmaster :  Some  of  you  may  not  know  that  one 
of  the  minor  sports  in  all  college  faculties  is  baiting  class- 
icists. When  I  have  indulged  in  it  sometimes  with  my  own 
colleagues  and  they  have  excused  themselves  on  the  ground 
of  the  difficulty  of  getting  students  to  work  with  enthusiasm 
at  Greek  and  Latin,  I  have  told  them  that  I  had  a  Greek 
Professor  in  college  who  got  us  so  excited  about  Greek 
tragedy  that  we  chanted  choruses  all  over  the  campus.  "Who 
was  that?"  they  ask.  And  when  I  tell  them  that  the  man 
was  C.  D.  Adams  of  Dartmouth,  they  reply :  "Oh,  Adams — 


112 


of  course!"  Professor  Adams  is  recognized  everywhere  as 
the  remarkable  teacher  and  the  sound  scholar  we  know 
him  to  be.  It  is,  therefore,  with  peculiar  pleasure  that  we 
have  him  with  us  as  our  guest  tonight.  I  am  going  to  ask 
him  tp  speak  to  us  about  the  College  and  the  War.  Profes- 
sor Adams. 


THE  COLLEGE  AND  THE  WAR 


In  the  past  twenty-five  years  we  have  been  coming  to  real- 
ize as  we  had  not  before  that  "the  College"  is  not  simply  the 
body  of  trustees,  faculty,  and  students  who  for  the  time  being 
are  in  office  or  in  residence  at  Hanover,  but  rather  that  great 
body  of  Dartmouth  men  whose  hearts  are  always  here — yes, 
fathers  and  mothers  too,  who  may  never  have  seen  the  New 
Hampshire  hills — all  united  in  love  for  Dartmouth  and  quick- 
ened by  the  Dartmouth  spirit.  To  this  widely  scattered  body 
the  war  came  with  its  unexpected  challenge,  the  greatest  moral 
appeal  that  Dartmouth  men  had  known  since  the  days  of  Lin- 
coln. How  splendidly  the  alumni  answered  the  call  to  the 
most  varied  forms  of  service,  ho  class  knows  better  than  your 
own,  for  you  are  most  fortunate  in  the  number  of  men  whose 
training  and  character  fitted  them  to  step  at  once  into  positions 
of  great  responsibility,  and  their  service  will  go  down  in  your 
records  as  the  proudest  possession  of  the  class.  Their  spirit, 
the  spirit  of  that  letter  of  a  father  to  his  boy  which  will  go 
down  through  you  as  one  of  the  priceless  treasures  of  the  Col- 
lege, their  spirit  is  the  best  testimony  to  the  depth  of  the 
Dartmouth  influence  in  those  days  when  it  was  your  privilege 
to  hear  the  words  and  touch  the  life  of  the  finest  man,  we,  or  any 
other  college  community,  have  ever  known,   President  Tucker. 

The  faculty,  too,  have  had  the  privilege  of  rendering  dis- 
tinguished service.  It  was  an  honor  to  Dartmouth  that  in  this 
national  crisis  its  President  was  a  man  whose  experience  in 
the  world  of  affairs  had  made  him  a  master  of  that  most  diffi- 
cult of  all  the  modern  arts  and  sciences,  the  humanizing  of 
industry.  And  so  when  the  success  of  our  arms  overseas  de- 
pended upon   the  possibility  of  adjusting  instantly  the   difficult 

113 


relations  between  great  bodies  of  men  and  their  employers  in 
the  critical  war  industries,  it  was   President  Hopkins  who  be- 
came Secretary  Baker's  right-hand  man.     Little  was  known  by 
the  public  of  the  work  that  was  being  done  in  his  office  across 
the  corridor  from  the  office  of  the  Secretary  of  War,  but  when 
-the  inner  history  of  the  crises  of  the  war  comes  to  be  written, 
it  will  be  found  that  it  was  Dartmouth's   President  who  again 
and  again  discovered  the  way  to  those  just  and  fair  agreements 
which  enabled  the  boys  across  the  sea  to  receive  their  unbroken 
supply   of   munitions.      In    the    map-room    of    the    General    Staff 
also   it  was   the   privilege   of  two   Dartmouth   professors,    Gold- 
thwait  and  Goodrich,  to  apply  their  expert  topographical  knowl- 
edge to   the   transfer  of  the  cablegrams   from   the   front   to  the 
staff  maps,  and  to  expound  the  situation  from  hour  to  hour  to 
the  staff.     Notable  service  in  other  lines  was  rendered  by  other 
men  of  our  Faculty;  Foster,  director  of  all  the  work  in  History 
in  the  overseas  camp  schools;  Dow  as  a  member  of  one  of  the 
interallied   commercial   commissions;    Hardy   and  Jones   in   the 
censorship  offices;    Dixon  in  the  R.  R.  administration;    Hull,  Hart- 
shorn,  Haskins,   and   Proctor,   in   the  application   of  science   to 
special  war  problems;  Husband  as  Secretary  of  the  New  Hamp- 
shire Committee  of  Public  Safety;  Page  in  the  quartermaster's 
department;    Young   in    the   preparation    of    mathematical    text- 
books  for  the   overseas  soldiers'  schools;   Anderson  as   one  of 
the  expert  advisers  of  the  Peace  Commissioners  in  Paris;  Moore 
and    Stone    in    the    psychological    tests     and     classification    of 
drafted  men;   Lingley  in  the  central  office  of  the  S.  A.  T.  C; 
Woods   in   the   adjustment   of  labor  difficulties;    Bill   in   service 
at  Canadian  Headquarters;  Zug  in  a  unique  tour  of  the  camps 
with   his   lectures    on   the   posters   of   the   allies;   others   too   in 
less  conspicuous,  but  no  less  necessary,  service— it  is  a  record 
of  varied  and  successful  effort  of  which  the  College  has  a  right 
to   be   proud. 

And  what  shall  we  say  of  that  great  body  of  undergraduates 
who,  in  the  midst  of  that  happy,  irresponsible  life  on  campus, 
in  dormitory  and  fraternity  house,  in  quiet  lecture  hall,  heard 
the  summons  of  the  guns  across  the  sea!  What  quick  response, 
what  cheerful  surrender  of  personal  plans,  what  quiet  facing 
of  the  terrible  chances  of  war,  what  birth  of  a  new  life  in  many 
a  carefree  man!  The  call  to  the  service  came  very  gradually. 
Long  before  we  expected  to  be  involved  as  a  nation,  the  boys 
began  to  take  to  heart  the  great  need  of  the  people  overseas. 
They  slipped  away  quietly,  one  by  one,  some  to  the  hospital 
service  in  France,  many  to  the  naval  and  infantry  schools  on 


114 


this  side.  The  Dartmouth  Red  Cross  unit  was  the  first  general 
movement,  and  it  was  this  service  which  wrote  the  first  name 
on  the  Dartmouth  Honor  Roll,  a  costly  Christmas  gift  to  the 
men  in  France.  By  the  time  of  our  own  declaration  of  war,  a 
large  number  of  students  were  ready  for  immediate  action. 
There  was  no  public  appeal  to  them,  and  no  emotional  excite- 
ment, but  from  the  first  day  of  apprehension  of  war,  the  whole 
spirit  of  administration  and  faculty  and  student  body  had  been 
so  strong  and  steady  in  its  patriotism  that  there  was  no  possi- 
bility of  resisting  the  movement  to  the  front;  the  Dartmouth 
spirit  of  loyalty  to  the  College  was  transferred  as  loyalty  to 
the  nation,  and  nowhere  was  it  found  wanting.  Few  men 
waited  for  the  compulsion  of  the  draft.  All  arms  of  the  ser- 
vice were  represented.  Perhaps  aviation  and  the  navy  were  the 
favorite  fields.  A  large  number  of  men  saw  service  overseas, 
and  when  the  roll  of  those  who  received  French  or  American 
citations  for  bravery  in  action  is  made  up,  it  will  contain  many 
a  Dartmouth  name. 

In  the  fall  of  1918  the  College  became  practically  a  military 
camp.  Under  the  organization  of  the  S.  A.  T.  C.  the  dormitories 
became  barracks,  the  course  of  study  was  prescribed  by  the 
Government,  and  the  whqle  discipline  became  military.  Our 
experience  of  this  phase  of  military  service  was,  unlike  that  of 
many  colleges,  wholly  good.  This  we  owe  in  no  small  degree 
to  the  good  judgment  and  sympathetic  attitude  of  our  command- 
ant, Major  Patterson.  There  was  no  friction  and  no  misunder- 
standing; officers  and  faculty  cooperated  heartily,  and  the  boys 
bore  the  restrictions  of  the  new  life  quietly  and  patiently,  and 
grew  physically  and  morally  thereby.  The  college  sense  ot 
humor  was  a  saving  grace,  and  early  rising  and  morning  drills 
on  a  frosty  campus  were  accepted  as  a  part  of  the  new  day's 
work.  The  Dartmouth  course  in  the  issues  of  the  War,  re- 
quired of  all  members  of  the  S.  A.  T.  C,  and  given  by  a  large 
group  of  the  faculty,  has  met  wide-spread  commendation  in 
the  college  world.  It  was  the  privilege  of  your  class  to  contrib- 
ute one  of  the  three  men  to  whom  this  course  owes  its  marked 
success;  it  is  not  invidious,  I  think,  to  say  that  in  addition  to 
his  great  part  in  the  planning  of  the  work  of  the  whole  course, 
Professor  Richardson  especially  gave  in  his  lectures  before 
the  whole  student  body  and  the  faculty  staff  such  an  analysis 
of  the  situation  and  such  appeal  to  sound  judgment  that  he  car- 
ried conviction  and  inspiration. 

And  now  what  of  the  after  effects  of  the  war  upon  the 
College?      I    believe   they   are    to   be    good   and   to    be    lasting. 


115 


Through  the  part  taken  in  the  war  by  Dartmouth  men  the  Col- 
lege has  added  greatly  to  the  circle  of  its  friends  in  the  nation 
at  large.  That  the  College  has  been  fitting  men  for  efficient 
service  in  private  and  in  public  has  been  demonstrated  as  never 
before.  There  is  every  indication  that  a  movement  toward 
Dartmouth  is  already  under  way  in  regions  where  hitherto  we 
have  been  little  known.  We  shall  very  soon  be  filled  to  the 
doors  with  young  men  to  whom  the  Dartmouth  virility  and 
loyalty  have  appealed  in  the  time  of  testing.  And  our  own 
spirit  has  been  mightily  quickened.  Especially  do  we  recog- 
nize the  duty  of  the  College  to  lay  primary  stress  upon  prepara- 
tion for  citizenship — the  citizenship  of  peace  no  less  than  that 
of  war.  The  problems  which  the  nation  is  now  facing  are 
not  chiefly  problems  of  physical  development  nor  of  merely 
financial  devices;  they  are  the  more  difficult  problems  of  the 
relation  of  man  to  man  in  a  Republic;  problems  of  cooperation, 
of  mutual  service,  of  understanding  and  justice  between  social 
classes,  and  of  international  moral  obligations.  The  Dartmouth 
of  today  is  preparing  to  do  its  full  part  in  fitting  young  men 
to  go  out  as  leaders  in  this  new  and  critical  period.  Our  most 
obvious  and  immediate  contribution  in  the  new  field  is  the 
course,  organized  largely  through  the  efforts'  of  Professor  Rich- 
ardson, henceforth  to  be  required  of  all  Freshmen,  and  to  be 
known  as  "Problems  of  Citizenship."  All  that  liberal  pro- 
visions of  equipment  and  expert  teaching  ability  can  do  for  the 
success  of  this  course  will  be  provided,  and  we  expect  it  to 
become  one  of  the  most  characteristic  Dartmouth  contributions 
to  education.  We  believe  this  course  will  so  impress  upon  the 
minds  of  the  Freshmen  the  importance  of  a  knowledge  of  the 
problems  of  citizenship  that  throughout  their  course  the  studies 
which  contribute  to  their  solution  will  hold  central  place.  In 
doing  this  we  shall  be  applying  to  the  new  Dartmouth  the  best 
traditions  of  the  old.  It  was  in  the  early  days  peculiarly  a 
statesman's  college,  a  training  school  of  patriotism.  The  sacri- 
fices and  the  privileges  of  these  years  of  the  world  war,  and 
the  new  world  problems  which  confront  us,  are  to  be  the  in- 
spiration of  the  years  which  are  coming. 


The  dinner  ended  at  2  130  A.  M.  with  circulating  the 
clay  pipes,  taking  a  few  puffs,  then  joining  hands  around 
the  table  singing  Charlie  Graham's  "Ode"  and  the  "Dart- 
mouth Song." 

116 


After  that  motors  were  sent  to  the  June  for  those  who 
had  to  make  the  three  o'clock  train  south.  One  party  even 
went  the  whole  distance  Bostonwards  by  motor, — Pitt  with 
a  chauffeur  and  Tim  Lynch,  driving  like  mad  through  the 
night  before  morning  should  come  upon  them  and  remind 
them  of  lost  Hanover, — and  Arcady. 


THE  PLAY  "OH,  DOCTOR!' 


On  Monday  evening,  while  the  '99  men  dined,  the  ladies 
attended  dramatics,  one  of  the  big  events  of  Commence- 
ment. It  was  pleasant  to  mingle  with  the  big,  jolly,  gayly 
dressed  crowd,  seniors,  pretty  girls,  parents,  alumni  of  all 
ages.  As  I  glanced  over  our  group  it  was  a  good  looking, 
very  much  dressed  up  crowd  (no  restriction  as  to  clothes 
for  this  event). 

Webster  Hall,  always  beautiful  with  its  eagerly  expect- 
ant audience,  the  lively  music  by  the  College  orchestra,  was 
a  most  up-to-date  city  theatre,  busy  ushers  whisking  about 
selling  the  music  of  the  play.  Mrs.  Kendall  did  want  to 
buy  a  copy,  but  between  us  all  we  couldn't  quite  scrape  up 
the  price — but  she  really  didn't  need  the  score,  for  back  at 
Massachusetts  Hall,  she  sat  down  to  the  piano  and  played 
it  from  memory. 

The  play  indeed  surpassed  our  expectations,  even 
though  we  remembered  that  the  club  has  a  splendid  reputa- 
tion. It  combined  the  best  features  of  the  season's  latest 
operas,  especially  catchy  music,  clever  songs,  plenty  of  good 
dancing,  and  attractive  costumes.  The  boys  had  been  well 
coached  by  the  professional  Mr.  Cohan.  I  understand  Mr. 
Markey,  the  author,  and  Mr.  Maroney,  leading  man,  are 
both  to  go  into  theatrical  business. 


117 


There  was  more  plot  to  "Oh,  Doctor!"  than  to  many 
modern  operas.  In  the  first  scene  we  see  a  city  doctor's 
elaborate  office,  with  its  retinue  of  assistants,  office  boy  and 
stenographers  discussing  their  dilemma — patients  waiting 
but  doctor  away — if  truth  were  told — on  a  regular  spree.  Dr. 
Brown's  nephew,  Johnny  Brown,  just  discharged  from  the 
service,  arrives  just  in  time  to  impersonate  the  old  doctor 
and  with  his  ready  wit  is  equal  to  all  sorts  of  emergencies, 
makes  love  to  the  typists,  and  makes  all  the  patients  happy, 
if  not  well,  with  his  prescriptions,  highly  alchoholic.  The 
queer  patients  give  the  boys  a  good  chance  to  display  their 
special  talents.  Everybody  enjoyed  the  very  fat  lady,  who 
just  loved  to  dance,  whose  weight  was  reduced  with  a  diet 
of  canary  seed  and  water.  There  was  the  hen-pecked  hus- 
band, suffering  from  nerves  and  money.  The  haughty 
mother,  whose  stage  past  comes  to  light.  The  blonde  and 
sweet  voiced  daughter  in  love  with  a  movie  actor,  a  group 
of  chorus  girls.  The  second  act,  "The  Cafe  Diabolique," 
elaborately  staged,  shows  the  characters  in  happy  mood 
from  the  effects  of  doctor's  stimulating  medicine,  meeting 
in  most  embarrassing  situations.  All  ends  well,  and  the 
young  doctor  makes  good  with  everybody,  especially  the 
head  stenographer  who  kept  her  head  clear  and  the  business 
going. 

We  all  hummed  and  marked  time  as  we  walked  out 
to  the  Fairyland  Campus,  strolled  about  in  groups  enjoying 
the  band  concert,  took  short  joy  rides  around  town  with 
Mrs.  Musgrove,  indulged  in  ices  down  town,  and  between 
glimpses  through  the  lower  hotel  windows  of  the  men  still 
at  their  dinner  and  speeches,  waited  patiently  for  them  to 
come  out. 

Some  of  us  who  returned  first  to  headquarters  went 
directly  up  stairs,  but  soon  heard  strains  of  music  from  the 
most  modern  dance  to  the  Virginia  reel,  and  it  was  said  next 
morning  that  one  of  the  most  dignified  danced  till  her  hair 
hung  down  her  back  and  was  a  "perfect  scream."  Such 
an  effect  did  "Oh,  Doctor !"  have  on  the  middle-aged  ladies. 

Mary  G.  Greenwood. 
118 


THE    ARCADIANS 

68  Men,  40  Women,  17  Children 
7  Guests  -  Total  132 


*A.  M.  ABBOTT 
*A.  J.  ABBOTT 

C.  E.  ADAMS 

W.  B.  ADAMS 

ALLEN 
*BARNEY 
*BARSTOW 

BEAL 
*BENEZET 
♦N.   P.   BROWN 
♦BURNS 

♦MAJ.  CAVANAUGH 
*H.    B.    CHASE 
*T.  W.  CHASE 
* CLARK 

COGSWELL 
♦CURRIER 
♦CUSHMAN 
*H.   H.   DEARBORN 
♦DONAHUE 
*DREW 
*W.  R.  EASTMAN 

EATON 
♦H.    O.    FRENCH 
♦FULLER 
*GALUSHA 
♦GANNON 
♦GEROULD 
♦GREENWOOD 
♦HAWKES 
*HEYWOOD 
*HOBAN 

HOBBS 
*HOPKINS 

HOSKINS 
♦HUCKINS 
♦HUTCHINSON 
♦E.  L.  HYATT 


♦JOHNSTON 

*JORDAN 

*JOY 

♦KENDALL 

*LEAVITT 

♦LYNCH 

♦LYSTER 

♦C.  O.  MILLER 

*H.  A.  MILLER 

*MUSGROVE 

♦PAYNE 

*PARKER 
PEARL 

♦RICHARDSON 

♦SEARS 

♦SILVER 

♦SKINNER 

♦SLEEPER 

♦SMITH 

♦SPEARE 

♦STORRS 

♦STURTEVANT 
TIBBETTS 
VARNEY 

♦F.  A.  WALKER 

♦J.  B.  C.  WALKER 

*WARDLE 

♦WASON 

*CAPT.  WATSON 

♦WINCHESTER 

Mrs.  A.  J.  ABBOTT. 
W.    B.    ADAMS 
ALLEN 
BARNEY 
BARSTOW 
BEAL 
BENEZET 
DONAHUE 


119 


Mrs.  DREW 

"  W.   R.   EASTMAN 

"  GALUSHA 

"  GANNON 

"  GREENWOOD 

"  HAWKES 

"  HOBAN 

"  HOBBS 

"  HOPKINS 

"  HOSKINS 

"  HUCKINS 

"  HUTCHINSON 

«  HYATT 

"  JOHNSTON 

11  JOY 

"  KENDALL 

"  LEAVITT 

"'  C.  O.  MILLER 

"  H.  A.  MILLER 

"  MUSGROVE 

"  PARKER 

"  PEARL 

"  RICHARDSON 

"  SILVER 
Miss  SMITH 
Mrs.  STORRS 

"  TIBBETTS 

"  F.  A.  WALKER 

"  J.  B.  C.  WALKER 
♦Present  at  the  Dinner. 


Mrs.  WASON 

"     WINCHESTER 

Miss   DRESSER 
THEODORE   ALLEN 
MARIE   BARSTOW 
ALBERT  GALUSHA 
RUTH  GALUSHA 
FAITH    HOPKINS 
WM.  HUTCHINSON 
SARAH  HUTCHINSON 
MARTHA  HUTCHINSON 
ALLEN   HYATT 
PAULINE  JOY 
BARBARA   JOY 

*RONALD  LEAVITT 
(The   Class  Baby) 

*LELAND    LYSTER 
LOUISE  MUSGROVE 
FRANK  R.  MUSGROVE 
LLOYD  WASON 
ROBERT    WINCHESTER 

*M.   O.  ADAMS  '71 

*PROF.  C.  D.  ADAMS  '74 
C.  W.  ROBIE 
HAROLD  W.  ROBIE 
CAHILL  HALL  '20 

(J.  L.  Barney's  nephew) 
EDGAR  A.  LYLE 
C.   C.  FIFIELD 


REUNION  FINANCE 


Receipts 


Received  from  taxes  and  contributions 
Refund  from  7  Musical  Show  tickets 


$73031 
11.55 


$741.86 


120 


their  established  habits  of  bachelordom  and  escorted  Mrs. 
Joe  Hobbs  and  Mrs.  K.  Beal  home.  Franko-French  went 
on  by  train  to  Boston  for  a  continued  vacation,  and  Warren 
Kendall  went  with  him  to  connect  with  the  afternoon  Fed- 
eral express  for  Washington.  Louise  Barstow  and  Marie 
rode  off  with  Jim  and  Mrs.  Walker  and  Bill  Currier  to  go 
as  far  as  Durham,  there  to  visit  with  Elmer's  sister  until 
Elmer  himself  could  close  up  accounts  at  Springfield  and 
join  them  for  the  summer  trip  to  Round  Pond,  Maine. 
Wesley  Jordan  turned  his  car  back  toward  Beacon,  N.  Y., 
the  Winchesters,  the  Joys,  the  Hyatts,  the  Fred  Walkers, 
the  Hopkinses,  the  Carl  Millers  and  Greenwoods, — all  were 
headed  out  of  Hanover,  away  from  Arcady,  and  so  with 
twenty  others. 

But  why  thus  dwell  on  the  hour  of  breaking  up  and 
labor  to  paint  a  dismal  picture  of  departure? 

"Dismal"  is  false !  The  sun  was  never  warmer  or 
the  skies  more  bright.  Smiles,  songs,  and  cheers  and  toot- 
ing horns;  valisefuls  of  inspiration  in  batteries  electrically 
recharged;  Bennie  unwearied  in  his  final  moments,  still 
joyously  reminiscent;  George  waking  with  a  start  from  a 
scant  hour's  sleep  and  throwing  up  his  boudoir  window  to 
look  out  in  garb  not  altogether  Beau  Brummellian  in  com- 
pleteness,— these  are  not  sounds  or  sights  to  stir  doleful  or 
foreboding  thoughts ! 

So  though  on  Tuesday  afternoon  only  Nelson  Brown, 
Weary,  Spade,  Ed  Skinner,  Cav,  George,  and  Owen,  Don- 
nie,  and  Ray  Pearl  with  their  wives  were  left  the  pulse  of 
the  '99  Vicennial  still  beat  strong.  At  night  the  steps  of 
Rollins  Chapel  saw  a  diminished  band  discussing  with  ardor 
undiminished  Pearl's  statement  that  for  mental  stimulus  he 
had  gone  back  to  reading  the  classics.  And  so  far  as  can 
be  ascertained  Weary  and  N.  P.  and  George  were  arguing 
yet  at  2  A.  M.  on  Wednesday. 

Later,  Wednesday  forenoon,  when  the  Commencement 
Procession  formed,  however,  only  George  remained  to  see 


122 


Cav  get  his  Bachelor  of  Arts  "Causa  honoris"  and  Pearl 
his  Doctor  of  Science.  Raymond  was  averaging  only  one 
degree  in  two  days  that  week,  having  received  no  other 
since  his  LL.  D.  on  Monday  from  the  University  of  Maine. 
Here's  what  they  said  about  him  Wednesday: 

Professor  Dixon: 

"Mr.  President,  at  the  request  of  the  Trustees,  and  in 
their  behalf,  I  present  to  you 

Raymond  Pearl, 

son  of  Dartmouth;  a  Biologist  of  international  renown; 
professor  of  biometry  and.  vital  statistics  in  the  School  of 
Hygiene  and  Public  Health  Johns  Hopkins  University ;  able 
coadjutor  of  Mr.  Hoover  in  that  marvelous  achievement 
of  conservation  and  mobilization  by  which  the  food  re- 
sources of  the  world  sought  out  and  met  the  world's  neces- 
sities; for  the  honorary  degree  of  Doctor  of  Science." 

President  Hopkins : 

"Raymond  Pearl,  of  the  class  of  1899;  frequenter 
alike  of  the  realms  of  esoteric  knowledge  and  of  practical 
affairs ;  who  have  acquired  distinction  without  losing  simp- 
licity, and  in  whom  love  of  learning  is  matched  by  the  will 
to  serve;  able  administrator;  lucid  interpreter  of  vital  sta- 
tistics; scientist  of  brilliant  achievement  and  promise;  I 
confer  upon  you  the  honorary  degree  of  Doctor  of  Science." 

At  noon  in  the  Gym  the  Alumni  Luncheon  was  served. 
In  the  post  of  honor  just  below  and  in  front  of  the  head 
table  was  '99's  table  with  plates  for  twenty!  What  Cav 
and  George  thought  to  themselves  or  said  to  each  other  as 
they  faced  this  disconcerting  scene  is  not  recorded,  but  five 
years  of  strenuous  secretarial  contriving  and  devising  and 
long  seasons  of  strategic  campaigning  on  hard  fought  grid- 
irons and  in  the  Argonne  had  not  been  in  vain.  A  little 
more  '99  hospitality,  diplomatic  but  effective,  brought  Bob 
Leavens  '01,  some  of  the  notable  '94  delegation,  and  other 
companionable  souls  to  fill  the  vacant  places.     To  over- 

123 


curious  inquiries  after  vanished  classmates  George  retorted, 
"  '99ers  are  neither  plutocrats  nor  idlers.  We're  busy  men. 
We  skimmed  the  cream  of  our  program  several  days  ago." 

But  we  cannot,  alas,  deny  that  '64  got  the  Commence- 
ment Cup  with  fourteen  out  of  eighteen  survivors  present; 
'94  came  next ;  and  then  '99  with  62  per  cent.  But  if  there 
had  been  a  cup  for  the  biggest  percentage  of  non-grads  back, 
'99  would  have  won  hands  down. 

One  last  scene  Thursday.  Dave  Storrs  and  George 
gathered  up  the  thousand  and  one  fragments,  properties, 
and  miscellaneous  paraphernalia  of  '99's  epochal  reunion, 
and  consigned  them  to  Dave's  storehouse.  There  in  an  old 
carpenter  chest  packed  in  camphor  and  with  an  appetizing 
moth  ball  tucked  snugly  in  each  grotesque  but  appealing 
mouth,  rest  Lena  and  Leon  like  fairy  princess  and  hob- 
goblin son,  to  slumber  till  the  close-set  forests  of  laborious 
days  and  the  entangling  underbrush  of  hateful  circumstance 
are  burst  asunder  by  magic  trumpet,  flashing  sword,  and 
thunderous  tramping  of  the  host  of  '99  marching  in  golden 
armor  to  seize  the  Campus  Citadel  when  the  Clock  of  Time 
booms 

Twenty-Five ! 


ECHOINGS 


'O  hark!  O  hear!   ' 
How  thin  and  clear! 
And  thinner,  clearer,  farther  going 
The  horns  of  Elfland  faintly  blowing." 


124 


Lena  and  Leon  Bid  Au  Revoir 


'^.Hi 

llllllilll 

Smiles  in  Arcady 


President  Hopkins 
in  the  Commencement  Parade 


Gnon-RvF     AprAnv 


To  the  Boys  of  '99: — 

Here  comes  on  this  twenty-fourth  day  of  November  in 
the  year  One  Thousand  Nine  Hundred  and  Nineteen,  like 
a  cut — behind  on  the  tailboard  of  a  delivery  wagon  loaded 
with  Thanksgiving  feeds  for  folks  and  firesides,  the  Old 
Grad  who  to  his  great  happiness  has  been  allowed  to  mix 
with  the  Ninety-nine  packages — and  who  signs  his  name 
at  the  end  not  so  far  away. 

Gosh !  isn't  that  a  long  and  most  unrhetorical  sentence ! 

He  has  been  applying  the  lingering  memory  test.  There 
was  a  Commencement  last  summer  and  a  good  one.  There 
also  happened  the  One  Hundred  and  Fiftieth  Anniversary 
of  the  College  celebrated  in  October  under  Skies  and  amid 
Hills  that  the  Master  Hand  had  painted.  The  old  places 
fairly  tingled  with  good  Comradeship.  The  songs  of  earlier 
days  rung  out  harmoniously  in  the  Crisp  Air.  Academic 
processions  lent  their  color  to  make  the.  Picture  vivid.  And 
yet — to  me — looking  back  each  and  all  seem  by-products 
of  the  Reunion  of  the  Class  of  '99  on  its  20th  Anniversary. 

How  can  I  forget  that  before  my  foot  left  the  Carstep 
at  the  June.  I  was  in  the  arms  of  Warren  Kendall ;  or  that 
later  I  was  put  down  front  for  the  Blood  Curdling  Drama 
in  the  Robinson  Hall  Theatre  and  hiccoughed  into  laughter 
more  cackling  than  when  Old  Harrington  (admission  15 
cents)  pulled  carrots  out  of  our  noses  in  the  Ashburnham 
Town  Hall.  ( 

Oh !  there  was  everythin'  I  will  say — even  to  the  stim- 
ulating serious  man-to-man  Class  Dinner. 

Yes,  boys,  you  pulled  me  back  from  forty-eight  years 
out, — to  the  Kin-Ship  and  Kid-dom  of  merely  Twenty 
years. 

Affectionately, 
Melvin  Q.  Adams. 
Class  of  '71 


125 


Hanover,  N.  H.,  August  6,  1919. 
My  dear  Mr.  Beat: — 

I  am  sending  you  something  about  "The  College  and 
the  War."  How  much  of  this  I  may  have  said  at  the  class 
dinner  I  do  not  know.  I  spoke  from  very  scanty  notes, 
and  those  were  long  since  destroyed,  so  I  have  had  to  write 
down  in  cold  blood  what  I  remember  of  things  which  were 
spoken  under  the  impulse  of  a  very  inspiring  audience.  It 
sounds  warmed  over — but  it  is  the  best  that  I  can  do. 

Thank  you  heartily  for  your  kind  words  about  college 
days.  In  these  times  of  few  students  in  Greek,  and  with 
old  age  quite  distinctly  in  sight,  such  appreciative  words 
are  doubly  precious. 

Cordially  yours, 

Chas.  D.  Adams. 


43  Franklin  Street,  Boston,  Mass.,  August  20,  1919. 

My  dear  Mr.  Beat: — 

I  have  been  intending,  ever  since  the  reunion  of  "The 
best  damn  class,"  at  Hanover,  the  latter  part  of  June,  to 
write  you  a  few  lines  but  I  have  allowed  one  thing  and  an- 
other to  prevent  me  from  doing  so. 

I  feel  that  I  have  been  very  fortunate  in  having  been 
"adopted"  as  a  member  of  the  Class  of  '99  and  I  wish  to 
assure  you  that  I  prize,  most  highly,  the  splendid  associa- 
tions which  were  made  possible  through  my  introduction  to 
Dartmouth  and  the  Class  of  '99. 

When  I  realize  how  this  reunion  and  one  or  two  others 
which  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  attending,  "sort  of"  gets 
under  the  skin,  so  to  speak,  I  cannot  help  thinking  what 
it  must  mean  to  you  men  of  Dartmouth  who  passed  your 
college  days  at  this  splendid  college/located  among  the  hills 

126 


and  valleys  and  rocks  of  the  Old  Granite  State  and  in  one 
of  its  most  beautiful  locations. 

As  I  recall  how  you  men  have  stood  by  each  other  and 
when  I  note  the  spirit  of  loyalty  to  Dartmouth  and  every- 
thing pertaining  to  it;  the  enthusiasm  and  affection  which 
you  feel  towards  it  and  each  other,  I  cannot  help  thinking: 
"Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds"  our  Dartmouth  men.       ^ 

I  feel  greatly  indebted  to  the  men  of  Dartmouth  who 
are  responsible  for  my  college  associations  and  I  would  like 
to  call  them  all  by  name  but  am  afraid  that  I  might  miss 
one  and  inasmuch  as  I  have,  through  them,  been  permitted 
to  become  acquainted  and  thoroughly  enjoy  the  associa- 
tions of  practically  all  of  the  Class  of  '99,  I  feel  that  I 
should  thank  you  ALL  for  taking  me  into  "the  fold"  and 
making  me  as  much  at  home  and  as  comfortable  and  happy 
as  any  man  could  be,  who  has  not  had  the  advantages  of 
a  life  at  college  and,  particularly,  at  DARTMOUTH. 

I  had  a  most  delightful  time  at  the  reunion  and  I  ap- 
preciate very  much  the  opportunity  to  mingle  with  such 
a  fine  "bunch"  of  good  fellows,  ladies  included.  The  oc- 
casion had  an  added  attraction  because  of  the  presence  of 
my  son,  Harold,  and  we  both  thank  you,  most  sincerely,  for 
the  opportunity  to  take  part  in  the  celebration. 

With  kindest  regards  and  all  good  wishes  I  remain 

Affectionately  yours, 

C.  W.  Robie. 


Round  Pond,  Me.,  August  24,  1919. 

Dear  Uncle  Kenneth: — 

I  feel  quite  honored  in  being  asked  to  write  to  the 
"Class  Secretary"  about  my  visit  at  Hanover,  but  I  am 
afraid  what  I  have  to  say  will  be  rather  dry  reading  for 
one  who  has  been  at  so  many  reunions. 


127 


I  certainly  did  enjoy  my  stay  at  Dartmouth  College, 
and  I  wish  it  had  been  much  longer.  I  am  already  hoping 
that  I  will  be  able  to  attend  the  Twenty-fifth  Reunion. 

The  time  from  my  arrival  until  I  left  was  filled  with 
many  pleasant  experiences.  I  think  it  is  very  interesting 
to  meet  your  father's  friends  and  their  families,  of  whom 
you  have  often  heard  him  speak.  Of  course  I  enjoyed  see- 
ing Hanover  and  the  College,  and  I  am  sure  if  I  were  a 
boy  I  should  plan  to  go  there. 

The  programme  of  our  class  was  fine.  I  don't  think 
many  other  classes  had  one  like  it.  I  was  sorry  I  missed 
the  tea  Saturday  afternoon,  but  I  enjoyed  the  "hum"  and 
the  sing  (and  the  movies,  of  course).  As  for  what  the 
men  did  Saturday  evening,  Pauline  Joy  and  I  thought  that 
all  out.     Maybe  I  will  tell  you  some  time. 

Sunday  was  also  a  pleasant  day.  I  enjoyed  the  Bac- 
calaureate Sermon.  I  had  never  been  to  one  before  and 
it  was  something  new.  The  picnic  was  splendid.  What 
lovely  country  we  saw ! !  Pauline  and  I  certainly  enjoyed 
ourselves  that  day.  And  everybody  did,  I  suppose.  I  took 
some  interesting  pictures  of  the  picnic,  which  came  out 
splendidly. 

Wasn't  the  entertainment  in  the  evening  interesting? 
I  enjoyed  that  more  than  anything  else,  and  especially  the 
little  talk  by  Mr.  Benezet.  It  certainly  was  funny  to  hear 
of  what  the  men  did  when  they  were  in  college. 

It  was  too  bad  you  had  to  leave  Sunday  night,  but  I 
am  glad  Aunt  May  could  stay,  for  I  know  we  all  had  a  fine 
time  Monday.  I  was  not  at  the  meeting  to  hear  you  made 
secretary,  for  I  was  exploring  Hanover  and  its  ice-cream 
stores  and  souvenir  shops  with  my  friends  of  the  '94  Class. 
We  all  went  to  the  Class  Day  Exercises  and  enjoyed  them 
very  much.  In  the  evening,  after  the  dramatics,  I  went  to 
a  dance  given  by  the  '94  Class  for  their  young  people.  I 
hope  at  our  next  reunion  there  will  be  many  more  young 
'99ers  present. 

128 


Although  I  would  like  to  say  more,  I  think  I  have 
taken  up  quite  enough  space  with  my  little  story  of  the  Re- 
union. 

With  love  to  you  and  Aunt  May  and  the  boys, 

Marie  L.  Barstow. 


White  River  Jctv  Vt.,  September  29,  1919. 

Dear  Mr.  Beal: — 

I  received  your  letter  the  first  of  August  and  I  am 
very  much  ashamed  of  myself  for  not  answering  it  before 
this.  I  have  had  to  remind  my  father  several  times  to  an- 
swer his. 

I  certainly  had  a  fine  time  at  the  '99  Class  Reunion. 
I  had  never  been  to  one  before  so  it  was  a  new  experience 
for  me,  but  I  surely  made  up  for  all  of  the  times  that  I 
didn't  attend.  Marie  (Barstow  and  I  were  the  only  two 
older  girls  of  the  same  age  and  we  had  a  fine  time  together. 
I  hope  that  there  will  be  more  young  people  at  the  next 
reunion. 

I  am  sure  that  no  other  class  had  as  good  a  time  fur- 
nished them  as  the  Class  of  '99,  and  I  hope  I  may  be  able 
to  attend  the  twenty-fifth. 

We  have  been  in  Camp  Billings  on  Fairlee  Lake  for 
two  months  this  summer  and  it  seems  rather  hard  to  come 
back  to  school. 

With  best  wishes  to  Mrs.  Beal,  and  yourself,  I  am 

Sincerely  yours, 
Pauline  L.  Joy. 


129 


25  Broad  Street,  New  York,  August  7,  19 19. 

My  dear  Mr.  Beat: — 

It  was  only  by  accident  that  I  saw  your  letter  to  the 
fellows  in  '99  asking  them  to  write  you  about  their  im- 
pressions of  the  Reunion.  I  don't  see  why  I  should  be  left 
out  and  I  am  going  to  say  a  few  things  myself. 

I  had  a  pretty  good  time,  but  say,  it  was  not  in  it  with 
the  last  reunion  I  attended,  no  Siree.  Goodness  Gracious, 
Agnes,  I  thought  I  would  never  get  home  alive  at  that  time. 
I  was  kidnapped,  you  remember,  and  if  I  do  say  it  myself, 
there  was  a  swell  lot  of  boys  who  had  me  and  I  guess  I 
looked  pretty  good  to  them,  too.  I'll  say  I  did.  Anyway, 
if  I  had  not  come  up  with  "Buck"  and  "Pap,"  I  might  have 
stayed  in  Hanover,  I  said  I  might.  I  guess  because  I  brought 
Leon  with  me  this  year  that  I  was  not  so  popular.  You 
know,  a  child  makes  a  lot  of  difference  in  the  good  times 
you  have.  Some  of  the  boys  were  fine  to  me,  and  as  I 
say  if  Leon  had  not  been  there,  I  know  I  could  have  cut 
out  some  of  the  wives.  I'll  say  I  could.  When  we  were 
having  our  pictures  taken,  I  had  a  fine  chance  to  give  the 
fellows  the  once-over,  and  say,  believe  me,  Mr.  Beal,  they 
all  looked  pretty  good  to  me.  There  was  one  fellow  they 
called  "Celery."  Oh  Boy!  he  was  some  flirt,  and  as  I  say, 
if  it  had  not  been  for  Leon,  well,  I'll  say  he  was,  but  you 
know  Mr.  Beal,  how  with  your  young  son,  you  hate  to  let 
yourself  go  very  much.  And  then,  there  was  Hawley 
Chase;  he's  awfully  nice.  I'll  say  he  is.  He  is  just  rough 
enough.  I  like  things  a  little  rough  when  I  am  out  on  a 
party,  and  Hawley  just  went  far  enough.  I'll  say  he  did. 
Then  there  was  Joe  and  Jim  and  Pitt  and  Rab  and  Cav  and 
Ikey,  and  by  the  way,  Mr.  Beal,  did  you  think  it  right  for 
Ikey  to  ask  me  to  let  him  look  at  my  teeth?  He  said  they 
looked  so  perfect  that  he  just  could  not  help  but  see  if  they 
were  real.  I  know  what  he  wanted,  but  he  did  not  get  it. 
When  I  kiss  a  fellow,  it  is  not  in  a  crowd.    I'll  say  it's  not. 

I  am  glad  they  made  you  secretary,  Mr.  Beal ;  you  will 

130 


be  fine.  Why  don't  George  Clark  get  married?  Since  my 
husband  died,  leaving  me  with  Leon  to  support,  I  am  not 
passing  up  any  chances  and  I  understand  George  has  a  farm 
and  everything.  Confidentially  now,  Mr.  Beal,  do  you  think 
I  might  have  a  chance?  George  is  just  my  style.  My,  I 
don't  know  what  '99  would  ever  do  without  George  Clark. 
He  is  the  whole  ball  of  wax  and  so  much  of  a  gentleman. 
I'll  say  he  is  a  gentleman.  There  was  not  a  man  in  the 
class  who  spoke  to  me  with  more  feeling  than  George  and 
him  so  busy. 

Well,  Mr.  Beal,  I  cannot  go  on  like  this  forever,  but 
I  want  to  hear  from  you  soon,  and  especially  about  George. 
Leon  and  I  send  our  love  to  you  and  the  boys,  and  if  you 
want  me  to  do  anything  for  you,  just  say  the  word  and  I 
am  there.    I'll  say  I'm  there. 

Affectionately  yours, 

Lena  &  Leon. 


TWO  '99  DYNAMOS 


The  Secretary  gives  his  solemn  word  that  there  is  no 
complicity  or  collusion  in  the  following  pair  of  productions. 
Great  minds  run  in  parallel  channels,  and  each  has  spoken 
his  full  and  honest  mind  with  no  expectation  of  any  "Same 
to  you,  sir"  response.  Each  was  peculiarly  fitted  to  treat 
his  particular  subject,  and  the  Secretary  pleads  no  other 
excuse  for  his  securing  these  two  rare  specimens  of  '99 
appreciation  in  the  way  he  did. 


131 


WARREN  CLEVELAND  KENDALL 


Class  secretaries,  as  well  as  kings,  require  power  be- 
hind the  throne !  Ninety-nine  woke  up  to  the  value  in  this 
ancient  royal  formula  ten  years  ago.  At  that  time  ,Barstbw 
happened  to  ask  a  group  of  Ninety-niners  to  select  for  him 
a  committee  of  three  to  put  through  the  Tenth  Reunion. 
The  committee  selected,  Kendall,  Varney  and  Donahue, 
put  through  a  reunion  that  was  memorable  and  that  re- 
union put  them  into  office,  Donny  as  secretary  and  the  other 
two  as  the  power  behind  the  secretarial  throne.  Five  years 
later  the  formula  was  varied  to  the  extent  of  insisting  that 
one  of  the  members  of  that  committee,  to  wit  Warren  Ken- 
dall, should  hold  over  into  a  new  executive  committee,  give 
to  the  power  behind  a  new  class  secretary  the  strength  of 
his  accumulated  experience  in  class  affairs.  It's  a  wonder- 
fully simple  and  effective  machinery,  blundered  into  maybe 
by  Ninety-nine,  but  worthy  of  further  adoption  by  other 
classes ;  and  with  the  passing  from  the  executive  committee 
of  the  class  this  year  of  Warren  Kendall,  after  ten  years 
of  devoted  worthwhile  service,  it  is  fittingly  proper  for  the 
late  secretary  to  both  acknowledge  the  value  of  this  power 
behind  the  secretarial  throne  and  to  gladly  express  his  ap- 
preciative obligation  and  the  obligation  of  the  class  to  the 
particular  personality,  exemplified  in  Warren,  of  that 
power  behind  the  throne  passing  with  himself  back  into 
the  rank  and  file  of  the  class. 

It's  easy  enough  for  a  secretary  to  spark  ideas.  It  is 
quite  another  thing  to  carry  them  out.  Therefore  with  the 
varied  functions  and  responsibilities  which  have  been  ac- 
cruing by  a  sort  of  time  wearing  accretion  to  class  secre- 
tarialism  in  recent  years,  it  has  been  a  boon  and  a  blessing 
to  have  such  power  behind  the  secretarial  throne  as  Warren 
to  turn  to.  His  ability  for  execution  has  been  a  tower  of 
strength  to  two  secretarial  regimes.     One  instinctively  re- 

132 


verts  to  the  three  reunions  made  successful  by  his  pains- 
taking execution  of  details,  his  origination  and  operation 
of  the  commencement  special  train  that  made  the  Hegira  to 
Hanover  pleasurable  until  wartime  conditions  required  its 
withdrawal,  his  series  of  after-the-game  football  suppers 
in  Boston  to  which  Mrs.  Ninety-niner  was  asked,  his  work 
on  the  interclass  ('97-1900)  Round-Up  held  at  the  Country 
Club  at  Lawrence,  his  acquisition  of  a  pre-emptive  right 
to  Middle  Massachusetts  for  a  Ninety-nine  reunion  home. 
They  are  only  some  out  of  the  many  things  wherein  his 
guiding  hand  has  largely  helped  to  spell  the  success  they 
attained.  His  work  in  them  has  been  beneficial  not  only 
to  the  class  but  to  the  college,  both  directly  and  indirectly. 
He  has  been  not  only  a  committee  man  who  executed  ideas, 
but  one  who  sparked  ideas  too.  In  browsing  through  the 
Ninety-nine  files  the  other  day,  I  found  four  foolscap  pages 
of  yellow  paper,  written  by  him  just  after  the  15th  Re- 
union, most  of  which  were  taken  up  with  the  suggestion 
that  at  the  20th  Reunion  Ninety-nine  should  put  on  an  orig- 
inal play  to  be  written  by  Donahue, — he  had  even  gone  so 
far  as  to  get  Donny's  creative  instinct  to  sparking  upon  a 
scenerio, — and  acted  by  a  Ninety-nine  all  star  cast.  That 
was  the  origin  of.  the  Morality  Playette  of  the  recent  Twen- 
tieth Reunion.  He  knew  then  that  it  could  be  done.  It 
has  been  done,  ,but,  as  Donny  remarked,  after  it  was  all 
over  and  a  full  realization  of  the  thin  ice  we  had  been  skat- 
ing on  came  to  him,  "He  didn't  see  how  we  had  the  nerve 
and  courage  to  carry  it  through."  The  latter  was  doubtless 
given  through  the  spirit  of  .Warren's  original  impulse.  His 
philosophy  of  class  matters  has  always  been  that  Ninety- 
nine  should  lead,  not  follow,  that  everything  it  did  should 
not  be  for  mere  amusement,  but  should  have  some  function 
in  welding  the  individual  members  of  the  class  and  their 
families  into  stronger  union,  both  for  their  own  good  and 
the  good  of  the  college,  that  in  aiming  at  these  objectives 
Ninety-nine  could  accomplish  anything  it  undertook.  Ap- 
preciative of  the  values  in  methods  of  class  activities,  always 


133 


standing-  for  the  worthwhile  things  in  them  and  for  putting 
the  worthwhile  into  them,  broadening  their  values,  courage- 
ous for  new  undertakings,  tireless  in  carrying  them  out,  he 
has  been  a  glorious  power  to  and  behind  the  secretarial 
throne. 

A  Ninety-niner  is  so  used  to  thinking  of  Warren  in 
Ninety-nine  terms  that  his  other  activities  are  likely  to  be 
overlooked.  Still  Ninety-nine  is  proud  of  his  railroad  career, 
from  its  pre-college  beginning  in  the  Pompanoosuc  Station 
through  its  vacation  telegraphic  days  with  Tedo  at  the 
Fabyans,  when  he  slid  down  the  Mt.  Washington  cog  rail 
on  a  skid  board  in  three  minutes,  through  the  apprentice- 
ship days  in  the  office  of  Vice-President  Lee  of  the  Boston 
&  Maine,  through  the  later  B.  &  M.  transportation  manager 
days,  through  the  pre-war  Washington  car  service  commis- 
sion days,  to  the  managership  of  the  Car  Service  Division 
of  the  National  Railway  Service  of  war  and  post-war  times, 
wherein  the  Transcript  so  aptly  called  him  one  evening  the 
"Guardian  of  the  Nation's  Cars."  The  very  next  morning 
after  the  Transcript  article  and  picture,  the  Hon.  Melvin 
O.  Adams  called  up  the  secretary  to  congratulate  him  upon 
the  felicity  of  that  characterization.  It  made  the  secretary 
covetous  of  the  origination  of  the  expression  because  it 
was  so  true  and  apt.  It  recalled  the  tensity  of  a  Ninety- 
nine  evening  in  Washington  when  Pearl,  with  the  secret 
figures  of  the  submarine  sinkings  in  his  pocket,  fearful 
over  the  ability  to  keep  England  and  France  supplied  with 
food,  praised  the  accomplishment  of  Warren  in  always  hav- 
ing the  food  at  port  ready  for  ocean  shipment.  It  made 
one  appreciate  the  difficulties  he  had  to  overcome,  the  cur- 
tailing of  car  usage  in  certain  lines  to  permit  of  its  usage 
for  war  purposes,  the  necessity  for  zoning  and  allocation, 
for  establishing  of  "sailing  days"  which,  though  it  cut 
down  our  freedom  of  shipment,  yet  saved  millions  in  car 
service  when  it  was  not  a  question  of  whether  we  could 
find  the  millions,  but  a  question  of  the  usage  of  the  available 
cars  for  the  immediate  demands  of  the  situation,  the  harm- 


134 


onizing  of  all  the  interests  ravenous  for  cars  to  the  broader 
outlook  of  their  distribution  and  usage  according  to  the 
necessities  of  the  public  weal.  The  quiet  accomplisher  of 
all  this  is  well  entitled  to  be  called  the  "Guardian  of  the 
Nation's  Cars."  It  has  meant  hours  of  thinking  and  work, 
not  only  days  but  long  evening  after  evening  at  the  office, 
the  bringing  into  play  of  the  same  qualities  of  quiet  op- 
timism, power  to  visualize  broadly,  faith  in  men  and  affairs, 
courage  for  new  undertakings  that  have  gone  into  the  '99 
committee  work. 

One  wonders  how  Warren  had  time  for  the  '99  com- 
mittee. It  was  a  toning  tonic,  like  the  hasty  bundling  of 
the  children,  Mrs.  Kendall,  even  the  housekeeper  and  the 
class  secretary  who  was  holding  down  one  of  his  guest 
chambers  during  the  winter  of  ,i8-,i9  into  the  motor  after 
dinner  for  a  turn  at  the  movie,  like  a  midnight  ride  in  the 
highway  maze  of  Rock  Creek  Park  for  outdoor  air,  like 
the  Sunday  morning  attendance  of  the  family  at  church 
where  he  is  the  right  hand  bower  of  a  Dartmouth  parson, 
that  he  tucked  into  crowded  hours  with  a  sort  of  religious 
zeal.  He  is  as  keen  for  play  as  any  one.  One  night  at  a 
little  '99  dinner  at  the  University  Club  in  Washington  the 
waiter  forgot  Warren's  coffee  sppon  and  Warren  playfully 
began  utilizing  a  left  over  soup  spoon  making  muchado 
over  its  barely  going  into  the  coffee  cup.  Tony  Willard's 
remark  later  that  he  "didn't  know  Warren  could  be  such 
a  clown"  illustrates  how  a  man's  work  or  reputation  may 
overshadow  the  other  aspects  of  his  makeup  that  go  to 
keep  him  whole  and  wholesome.  Together  with  Mrs.  Ken- 
dall, who  is  Willis  Hodgkins'  sister  and  who  can  play 
Ninety-nine  songs  as  well  as  Willis  himself,  the  Kendall 
homestead  has  always  dispensed  a  generous  and  quiet  hos- 
pitality that  has  been  oases  to  many  a  Ninety-niner  as  well  as 
to  the  people  of  the  larger  world  of  affairs ;  and  in  Wash- 
ington the  Kendall  housekeeper,  imported  from  New  Eng- 
land, is  acquiring  a  reputation  among  some  folks  for  Sat- 
urday night  baked  beans  fast  approaching  the  fame  of  the 


135 


late  Mark  Hanna's  Ohio  cook  for  "corn  beef  hash."  Pearl 
and  the  secretary  tied  for  first  place  one  night  with  a  score 
of  six  plates  each,  with  Peddy  Miller  and  Frank  Staley 
pressing  close  after  for  second  place.  It  sounds  scandalous, 
but  it  was  jolly  and  Warren's  accompanying  "clownishness" 
was  of  the  kind  that  buoys  one  up  for  the  next  day's  prob- 
lems. It's  play  that  always  tones,  which  is  quite  as  much 
a  result  of  the  personality  projected  into  the  play  as  the 
play  itself.  The  late  secretary  gladly  confesses  that  most 
of  the  things  that  have  been  best  in  the  administration,  of 
class  affairs  during  the  last  five  years  and  the  atmosphere 
put  about  them  have  been  due  to  Warren;  and  it  is  now 
right  to  disclose  that  Warren  was  the  author  of  a  squib 
that  ever  since  the  15th  Reunion  the  secretary  has  been 
fond  of  repeating.  The  committee  were  discussing  the  finan- 
cial ability  of  the  members  of  the  class  to  attend  the  re- 
union when  Warren  spoke  up  "It  isn't  a  question  of 
whether  I  can  afford  to  attend,  it's  a  question  of  whether 
I  can  afford  not  to  attend."  Doubtless  the  late  secretary 
has  often  been  given  the  credit  for  that  aphorism.  While  it 
codifies  the  late  secretary's  feelings,  like  many  other  things 
that  he  doubtless  gets  credit  for,  the  credit  belongs  to  War- 
ren. The  aphorism  reflects  himself,  his  concept  of  what 
Ninety-nine  is  to  him  and  should  mean  to  the  rest  of  the 
class,  the  part  it  can  and  should  play  in  the  life  of  a  posi- 
tive man  of  affairs  for  the  good  of  himself  and  affairs. 
It's  the  kind  of  an  attitude  that,  with  its  divergent  ramifi- 
cations and  variants,  keys  up  the  throne  of  a  class  secre- 
tary, translates  the  power  behind  the  secretarial  throne 
through  it  to  the  class  itself  and  on  to  Dartmouth. 

George  G.  Clark. 


136 


George  Clark  at  the  Farm 


GEORGE  GALLUP  CLARK,  SS.  D. 


George  Gallup  Clark,  Lawyer,  Agriculturist;  Philan- 
thropist ;  Litterateur ;  Lover  of  All  Mankind ;  Indefatigable 
Worker  for  All  Things  Good,  Distributor  of  Sunshine; 
Class  Secretary,   Summa  Cum  Laude. 

If  a  special  degree  could  be  conferred  upon  our  Class 
Secretary  of  the  last  half  decade — who,  like  his  predeces- 
sors, would  not  permit  re-election  because  of  principle — 
it  would  by  unanimous  consent  be  SS.  D.,  Doctor  of  Secre- 
taries, for  he  has  presented  to  us,  and  to  his  Secretary  As- 
sociates, the  highest  ideal  of  what  a  class  secretary  can 
and  should  be  to  the  organization  he  is  called  upon  to  lead, 
and  to  the  college  whose  interests  he  serves. 

A  position  of  paramount  importance  in  college  alumni 
organization,  full  of  liard  work,,  unceasing  application, 
much  drudgery  and  unexpressed  thanks,  yet  glorious  in 
its  achievements,  George  has  run  the  full  gamut.  He  suc- 
ceeded to  this  work  when  it  seemed  that  his  predecessor 
had  reached  the  pinnacle  in  this  line  of  endeavor;  new 
standards  had  been  set;  encomiums  had  been  preached; 
D.  S.  C.  and  other  decorations  had  been  distributed;  the 
climax  was  probably  reached  and  passed.  It  is  a  high 
compliment  to  those  who  had  gone  before  that  the  strong 
faultless  and  flawless  structure  they  had  created  proved 
a  firm  foundation  for  him  to  build  upon  to  attain  a  still 
higher  state  of  accomplishment. 

George's  success  may  be  accredited  to  two  personal 
characteristics ;  first,  his  full  confidence  in  human  nature ; 
and,  second,  his  patience  and  never  failing  energy  in  pur- 
suit of  the  elusive  reply  to  his  call — whether  by  telegraph, 
telephone,  letter,  or  post  card.  George  never  lost  hope  in 
a  single  one  of  us.  No  shepherd  ever  exercised  more  faith- 
fulness in  the  gathering  of  his  flock ;  no  pastor  ever  thought 

137 


more  over  the  interests  of  his  people;  and  although  we 
have  been  separated  by  thousands  of  miles  he  has  main- 
tained a  constant  and  almost  superhuman  effort  to  keep  us 
all  as  in  a  single  unit,  closely  in  touch  with  each  other's 
joys  and  sorrows,  with  the  ever  helpful  hand  reaching  out. 
Any  failure — a  very  rare  thing — has  been  due  to  our  own 
neglect,  and  our  refusal  against  very  heavy  pressure,  to 
accept  association  in  that  family  of  Dartmouth  men  which 
enjoys  the  reputation  of  exemplifying  the  best  there  is  in 
college  spirit  and  tradition  and  has  been  our  own  distinct 
loss  and  one  for  which  the  individual  is  fully  responsible. 

For  all  this  George  Clark  stands  staunch,  serene  and 
on  a  pedestal  of  his  own  making.  In  his  modesty  he  depre- 
cates this  distinction.  He  has  led  us  to  the  heights  of 
loyalty.  He  has  re-welded  us  in  bonds  which  shall  not  be 
broken  after  twenty  years  by  any  earthly  upheaval.  Our 
cement  has  "set,"  though  the  work  of  his  successors  must 
be  no  less  exacting.  Our  plan  and  form  of  organization 
permits  of  no  opportunity  to  go  stale.  We  shall  be  as 
strong  and  firm  in  our  class  and  college  allegiance  when 
there  are  but  two  remaining  to  answer  the  annual  call,  and 
to  reminisce  again  and  again  over  the  Famous  Secretaries 
of  '99,  and  the  wonderful  and  unparalleled  spirit  incul- 
cated by  them. 

But  George  has  been  more  than  a  collector  of  letters 
and  photographs — a  chaser  for  the  data  for  our  vital  sta- 
tistics. He  has  entered  into  our  family  life — those  who 
have  been  accessible — and  left  there  a  trail  of  never-to-be- 
forgotten  sociability  and  companionship,  born  only  of  a 
personal  interest  constant  in  sincerity  and  accompanied  al- 
ways with  never  failing  cheeriness,  optimism  and  joy  which, 
alas !  too  few  of  us  can  at  all  times  maintain.  Perhaps 
George's  celibacy  is  responsible  for  this — cause  or  effect, 
which?  If  we  will  recall  the  scenes  at  the  last  reunion 
which  included  George  frequently  surrounded  by  our  be- 
loved ladies,  even  though  there  was  no  bon  bon  bait  we 


138 


know  that  his  real  greatness  as  a  moulder  of  'o^ism  lies 
in  his  quest  for  the  best  and  the  beautiful. 

If  the  whole  truth  were  known  probably  there  is  many 
a  seared  conscience  among  us  confessing  to  failure  to  re- 
spond to  his  annual  appeals  save  upon  the  third  or  fourth 
request  or  perhaps  altogether.  With  all  this  discourage- 
ment we  have  not  been  scolded  though  that  course  would 
be  fully  justified.  Let  us  fervently  hope  that  this  lesson  has 
at  last  been  burned  into  our  souls  that  our  future  responses 
may  be  100%  spontaneous,  and  whenever  the  call  from  our 
class  leader  comes,  give  him  immediately  all  he  asks  and 
to  the  limit  of  our  ability.  At  the  best  his  is  a  hard  task 
and  our  duty  plainly  in  the  interests  of  our  class,  our  col- 
lege, and  ourselves,  is  to  give  of  ourselves  in  full  measure 
of  support  in  whatever  form  requisitioned.  With  our  splen- 
did leadership  inheritance  from  the  past,  the  assurance  for 
the  present,  and  all  the  display  of  willingness  and  ability, 
each  doing  his  part,  the  future  of  '99  as  a  leader  in  college 
affairs,  is  safe. 

George,  genial,  hopeful,  democratic,  modest,  always 
tactful,  in  all  things  considerate,  thoughtful  of  our  every 
interest  at  all  times,  we  are  truly  grateful  for  the  excellence 
of  your  leadership,  for  the  amount  of  time  and  energy  so 
unselfishly  expended,  for  the  patience  so  constantly  dis- 
played. We  realize  our  thanks  and  appreciation  have  been 
but  scantily  expressed.  We  have,  however,  fully  recog- 
nized the  good  you  were  doing  for  us,  the  vision  of  our 
Alma  Mater  you  continuously  gave  to  us,  the  many  evi- 
dences of  class  brotherhood  you  brought  and  than  which 
there's  none  better:  "All  for  one  and  one  for  all."  We 
know  that  many  things  have  been  instigated  or  given  im- 
petus by  you,  regarding  which  you  prefer  absolute  silence — 
and  indeed  unknown  to  most  of  us — things  which  have 
brought  unqualified  happiness  to  the  individual  and  joy  to 
the  entire  fellowship.  Your  reward  is  sure.  Your  deeds 
for  us  cannot  be  measured  by  mere  words — our  hearts  must 


139 


tell  and  re-tell  the  story.  Our  minds  all  concentrate  on  that 
typically  Dartmouth  age  old  demonstration  of  love  and  af- 
i. Action,  true  now  and  always — 

Who  was  George  Clark? 
First  in  War; 
First  in  Peace; 
First  in  the  Hearts  of  his  Countrymen ! ! 

("Ra-ta-ta-tap-Bang ! !   Bang !  I") 

Vive  le  George  Clark! 

Warren  C.  Kendall. 


A  SONG  THAT  NINETY-NINE  WANTS  SET  TO 

MUSIC 

COUNTING  SONGS 


Twenty  and  something  and  twenty 
Should  come  to  forty  or  more ; 
But  add  Ninety-Nine 
And  the  whole  sum,  in  fine, 
Is  barely  more  than  a  score. 

Twenty  and  something  and  twenty 
May  seem  to  approach  middle  age; 
But  add  Ninety-Nine, 
And  there's  hardly  a  sign 
Of  growing  either  stodgy  or  sage. 

140 


Twenty  and  something  and  twenty, 
The  flower  of  frolicsome  youth; 

At  least  Ninety-Nine 

Is  taking  that  line, 
Which  makes  it  absolute  truth. 

Twenty  and  something  and  twenty ! 
Let  those  who  feel  aged  give  way. 

But  up  Ninety-Nine! 

Your  hand  on  mine, 
We're  twenty  and  something  today. 

G.  H.  Gerould. 


141 


THE  CLASS  IN  GEOGRAPHY 


COMPLETE 


IN 


FOUR  LESSONS 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  '99  SPEAKS 

I  am  the  product  of  the  years  before  and  of  the  years 
after.  I  am  part  of  what  was  Prexie  Tucker.  I  belong 
to  the  old  Dartmouth  and  I  belong  to  the  new. 

I  am  the  genius  of  Elmer  and  of  Donnie  and  of  George. 
I  am  the  spirit  of  those  who  have  gone  and  I  am  the  spirit 
of  those  who  remain.  I  am  greater  than  any  reunion.  In 
one  bond, — inviolate  and  indissoluble,  I  bind  all,  those 
who  are  absent  and  those  who  are  present. 

I  am  Brotherhood. 

I  cross  the  seas  but  I  am  inextinguishable.  I  dwell  ob- 
scurely but  I  endure.  I  am  the  spirit  of  Dartmouth.  1 
am  the  soul  of  man. 


144 


THE  CLASS  IN  GEOGRAPHY 
Lesson  One:  Across  Sea  and  Land 

One  of  the  distinctive  facts  of  geography  a.s  taught 
in  most  schools  has  been  its  tendency  to  "stay  put".  Cape 
Cod  remains  tolerably  unchanged  since  the  days  when  the 
Mayflower  beat  up  around  it,  except  for  a  few  shifted  bars 
and  shoals  and  creek-mouths.  And  the  North  Pole,  de- 
spite a  recent  taking  account  of  stock,  which  occurred  in 
its  vicinity,  is  still  popularly  supposed  to  stick  out  at  about 
the  same  point  of  the  old  earth's  crust. 

But  since  five  years  ago  Mittel-Europa  took  up  the 
self  appointed  but  thankless  job  of  making  this  planet  over, 
there  has  been  more  transportation  furnished  by  more 
different  methods  for  more  various  reasons  to  more  num- 
erous mortals  than  ever  happened  before  in  a  millennium. 

So  here  in  the  beginning  of  your  regular  lesson  in  geog- 
raphy are  a  few  of  '99' s  contributions  to  the  world's  at- 
tempt to  get  settled. 

From  the  far  outpost  of  Japan,  K.  Asakawa  has  re- 
turned with  a  trunkful  of  Oriental  notes  and  records  to 
buttress  Yale's  reputation  for  scholarship  while  Major  Cav 
has  returned  to  his  law  practice  in  Worcester  and  incident- 
ally to  play  havoc  with  that  same  Yale's  athletic  record. 
So  Major  Sewall  has  returned  to  civil  life  and  the  prac- 
tice of  medicine  in  New  Jersey,  but  Captain  Wattie  has 
jumped  out  into  Northern  Michigan  to  build  a  paper  mill. 

Captain  Everett  Hardwick  and  Major  Rodney  Sanborn 
have  both  forsworn  the  martial  titles  of  war  for  the  healing 
titles  of  peace,  and  once  more  keep  steady  the  erratic  pulses 
of  Boston  and  New  York;  while  Captain  Parker  with 
health  regained  does  the  same  for  Manchester.  In  Prince- 
ton Jerry  once  more  calls  his  English  classes  to  order  as 


145 


Peddie  does  his  divisions  in  philosophy  at  Oberlin.  George 
Evans  is  again  on  duty  at  the  Somerville  Public  Library 
and  Raymond  Pearl  takes  up  his  war-postponed  promotion 
to  service  at  Johns  Hopkins ;  but  Warren  Kendall  and 
Frank  Staley  must  still  remain  in  Washington.  Bill  Eaton 
takes  up  the  advertising  branch  of  journalism  in  New  York, 
Arthur  Brown  moves  to  Erie,  Pa.,  and  Squaw  Kirk  changes 
his  headquarters  to  Indianapolis. 

From  California  Rab  Abbott  hurries  to  join  Tony  Wil- 
Iard  in  Washington,  but  Tony  forthwith  returns  to  Orono, 
Maine,  whence  in  turn  Elmer  Woodman  makes  a  sudden 
turn  to  Missouri.  But  even  he  goes  not  so  far  as  Willis 
Hodgkins,  who  leaps  almost  the  whole  continent  and  calls 
Phoenix,  Arizona,  home. 

Ronald  Leavitt,  back  from  ballooning  in  France,  for 
reuning  at  Hanover,  is  just  ahead  of  Bill  Atwood  who 
doesn't  reach  his  familiar  desk  at  60  State  Street  until 
July.  But  Ted  Child  still  stays  across  the  pond  in  France, 
transferred  to  the  United  States  Consul's  office  at  Bordeaux, 
and  Leon  Martin  waits  impatiently  for  a  sailing  date  that 
still  eludes. 

(Good  news!  Leon  is  back  now.  K.) 


Portland,  Oregon,  October  20,  191 9. 

Dear  Sir: — 

Replying  to  your  inquiry  of  October  12th,  concern- 
ing James  D.  Childs,  I  had  a  man  from  Corvallis,  Ore. 
who  fits  the  description.  He  was  Mess  Sergeant  of  Co.  F, 
18th  Engineers,  and  was  six  or  eight  miles  from  Bordeaux 
and  had  the  pneumonia  and  throat  trouble  in  February, 
1918  just  as  mentioned.  He  was  transferred  out  of  my 
regiment  and  discharged  from  the  service  last  winter  in 
order  to  receive  an  appointment  in  the  United  States  Con- 


146 


sul's  Office  in  Bordeaux.  I  was  only  too  glad  to  assist  him 
and  he  served  long  and  faithfully  under  my  immediate 
command  and  his  record  was  perfect.  I  had  a  letter  from 
him  a  few  months  ago  and  he  was  in  excellent  health. 
Just  address  nim  care  of  the  American  Consul's  Office, 
Alle  Tourney,  Bordeaux,  France,  and  I  am  sure  you  can 
hear  from  him  direct.  Glad  to  be  of  service  at  any  time 
in  connection  with  any  of  the  boys  who  served  with  me. 

Yours  truly, 
Kenneth  D.  Hauser. 
Kenneth  D.  Hauser, 
Late  Major  18th  Engineers  (Ry)  U.  S.  Army. 


Unity,  Maine,  November  22,  1919. 
Dear  Mr.  Beat: — 

Your  fine  letter  of  October  came  to  me  some  time 
ago  and  I  am  ashamed  that  I  have  not  answered  it  before. 
However,  I  have  been  waiting  for  a  definite  word  from  my 
husband.  In  a  letter  that  came  on  this  morning's  mail  he 
states  that  the  date  of  sailing  is  very  uncertain. 

I  expect  to  meet  him  when  he  lands  on  American  soil 
and  you  may  rest  assured  that  your  communications  will 
be  brought  to  his  attention  at  an  early  date. 

Perhaps  you  will  remember  Miss  Dutton,  second,  of 
K.  U.  A.  ?  I  am  that  person  and  in  the  old  days  Leon  and 
I  were  very  good  friends.  At  present  I  am  with  my  father, 
but  it  is  needless  to  say  that  the  past  two  years  have 
seemed  ages  to  the  one  left  behind.  It  will  indeed  be  a 
happy  reunion  for  us  both. 

Wishing  you  and  yours  much  happiness  in  the  coming 
years, 

Sincerely  yours, 
Eleanor  D.  Martin. 
(Mrs.  Leon  A.) 


147 


Unity,  Maine,  January  4,  1920. 

Dear  Kenneth: — 

Ninety-nine's  Christmas  card  and  your  personal  note 
came  to  my  reading  last  night  when  I  arrived  in  Unity. 
It  is  great  to  feel  the  fraternal  spirit  of  '99.  I  appreciate 
very  deeply  the  minutes  you  have  taken  out  of  a  busy  life 
i.o  send  me  these  words  of  greeting. 

I  landed  at  Hoboken,  November  26th.  Two  years 
and  one  month  since  I  had  last  seen  New  York's  sky  line 
disappear  under  the  horizon.  It  surely  sets  one's  blood 
racing  to  see  the  buildings  take  shape  again  and  to  realize 
the  ever  deepening  significance  of   the  Statue  of  Liberty. 

Mrs.  Martin  and  I  went  at  once  to  Vermont  for  a 
short  visit  with  relatives  and  friends.  We  were  on  our 
way  to  Maine  when  I  chanced  to  meet  Jim  Richardson 
at  Manchester.  We  spent  the  holidays  at  Gardiner,  Maine, 
and  now  propose  to  have  at  least  a  month  of  real  rest 
here  on  the  farm.  I  am  already  gaining  weight  and  feel 
renewed  in  vigor. 

You  ask  if  I  have  any  news  of  Ted  Child,  and  I  regret 
to  say  that  I  have  never  been  able  to  make  connections 
with  him.  As  I  remember  at  this  moment  he  was  with  the 
8th  Engineers  according  to  the  class  report  which  you 
senc.  I  wrote  to  him  as  soon  as  I  found  that  he  was  in 
France,  but  I  fear  he  never  received  my  message.  Bill 
Atwood  was  the  only  one  of  the  boys  whom  I  saw  overseas. 
We  had  a  chance  to  make  a  trip  to  Paris  together  for  a 
Dartmouth  dinner  last  June  and  I  surely  enjoyed  every 
moment.  Professor  Foster  gave  us  a  splendid  message 
from  the  College. 

Sometime  in  the  near  future  I  will  try  to  write  a 
more  satisfactory  letter.  This  note  is  simply  to  express 
my  appreciation  of  your  greeting.  If  you  ever  see  Dr. 
Gordon  please  extend  my  regards. 


148 


Please  accept  from  Mrs.  Martin  and  myself  the  best 
wishes  of  the  season  for  yourself  and  family. 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

L.  A.  Martin. 


And  in  the  providence  of  events  George  Prescott  and 
Mun  Folsom  take  the  longest  journey  of  them  all,  their  last, 
and  leave  us  two  the  less  in  number. 

Lesson  Two :  The  Far- Western  9 

The  Secretary  has  never  dabbled  much  in  things  meta- 
physical, but  these  lessons  in  geography  have  already  re- 
vealed some  surprising  things  to  him.  The  9  Muses  fit 
in  naturally  enough  with  ancient  history  and  tradition,  and 
Dartmouth  '99  has  added  to  modern  times  another  bit  of 
worthy  history  and  tradition.  But  there  seems  to  be  some- 
thing more,  a  kind  of  magic  in  that  figure  9,  however  you 
regard  it.  For  instance,  west  of  the  Mississippi,  there  are 
9  places  in  which  there  are  '99  men.  Moreover,  if  you 
get  out  your  map  and  locate  these  places  you  will  find  that 
you  can  draw  through  them  a  huge  fantastic  figure  9. 

Try  it ! 

Here  we  are  at  Minneapolis  with  Dan  Ford  and  Luke 
Oakes.  From  here  the  9's  upper  curve  swings  west  to 
Simms,  Montana,  where  Albert  Tootell  still  "farms  it"; 
bulges  out  around  Seattle  where  "Bones  Woodward  and 
his  wife  and  one  of  their  fine  boys"  gave  Frank  and  Mrs. 
Surrey  several  pleasant  hours  last  August;  then  makes 
the  turn  south  through  John  Ash's  home  in  Corvallis, 
Oregon,  and  to  Pasadena  in  lower  California  where  Ar- 
thur Kimball  is.  Now  the  full  loop  of  the  9  is  apparent 
as  we  shoot  east  through  the  Washington  Hotel  in  Phoen'.x, 
Arizona,  (where  Willis  Hodgkins  gives  the  traveler  shel- 
ter)  and  going  northeast  through  Buck's  home  in  Omaha, 

149 


we  make  both  ends  meet  at  Minneapolis.  Then  for  the 
vertical  stroke  of  the  9  jump  south  through  Rolla,  Missouri, 
where  Elmer  Woodman  has  become  head  of  the  Physics 
Department,  University  of  Missouri,  School  of  Mines  and 
Metallurgy;  and  finish  your  line  with  a  little  cant  west- 
ward to  stop  short  at  Doc  Norton's  front  door  in  San 
Antonio. 

Now  if  you've  learned  your  lesson  and  can  draw  neat 
bulgy  o/s,  you  may  take  a  recess  and  go  meet  the  postman. 


The  University  of  Minnesota,  Minneapolis,  Minn., 

September  15,  1919. 
Dear  K:— 

Congratulations — to  yourself  and  Ninety-Nine — on 
your  selection  as  Class  Secretary.  The  class  has  been 
fortunate  in  the  past  in  its  secretaries — how  much  we  owe 
them  for  their  loyal  and  thorough  work! — and  now  we  are 
fortunate  again.  The  standard  set  by  George  Clark  is  no 
easy  one  to  reach  or  maintain,  for  his  work  was  of  an  excep- 
tional nature  but  we're  all  going  to  pitch  in  and  help  you. 
As  for  your  giving  us  your  best,  we  have  no  doubt  of  that. 

Summer  School  kept  us  here  in  Minneapolis  till  August 
12.  Then  we  went  to  Lake  Itarca,  where  we  spent  three 
weeks  in  the  open. 

I  have  no  news  of  interest  to  the  class  unless  it  be 
that  here  at  the  University  we  have  a  Dartmouth  dining 
club — there  are  some  nine  of  us  on  the  faculty — that  meets 
once  a  month  throughout  the  school  year.  Frequently,  we 
have  several  alumni  with  us  as  guests. 

I  want  to  pay  my  1919  tax.     To  whom  shall  I  send  it? 

Mrs.  Ford  joins  me  in  best  wishes.  As  we  expect  to  go 
East  next  summer  we  may  drop  in  on  you. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Daniel  Ford. 


150 


Minneapolis,  Minn.,  August  31,  1919. 

Dear  Kenneth: — 

Yes,  I  missed  you  at  the  Vicennial  and  I  missed 
all  the  good  times  and  talks  that  you  had.  I  am  the  loser. 
My  work  here  did  not  line  up  satisfactory  for  my  leaving, 
my  family  was  too  young  to  travel,  therefore  I  just  had  to 
fail  to  report  at  Hanover  for  the  Vicennial. 

Allow  me  to  congratulate  you  as  Secretary  of  the 
Class  of  '99  and  wish  you  the  best  of  luck.  The  Class  has 
always  been  with  and  stood  behind  the-  Class  Secretary  and 
I  know  that  you  will  find  no  exception  in  your  case. 

George  Clark  was  a  fine  secretary,  so  were  all  the 
other  fellows  that  preceded  him  and  they  all  gave  fully  of 
their  time.  George  was  perhaps  situated  a  little  different 
from  the  other  fellows,  not  being  married  and  no  lady 
(according  to  all  reports)  to  unite  with,  he  took  a  very 
fatherly  interest  in  the  next  best  bunch  of  humanity  and  so 
became  a  father  to  the  '99  boys.  I  will  be  pleased  to  vote 
a  "Grand  Cross  of  the  Legion  of  Dartmouth  '99"  for  him. 

I  have  very  little  to  report  about  myself  other  than  I 
have  kept  busy  contracting,  engineering,  gardening  and 
looking  after  my  family.  Dan  Ford  and  his  wife  are  the 
only  *99ers  that  live  in  this  vicinity,  they  are  both  "dandy 
good  fellows"  and  Mrs.  Oakes  and  I  always  enjoy  an 
evening  with  them. 

The  first  part  of  this  month  I  was  in  Vermont  with 
my  father  and  mother  for  a  short  visit.  On  my  way  East 
I  missed  my  train  going  north  from  Springfield,  Mass.,  so 
went  to  Hartford,  Conn.,  to  stay  over  night  with  a  relative 
and  in  the  evening  visited  Bill  Greenwood  and  his  wife.  We 
had  a  grand  talk  about  the  doings  of  the  '99ers  and  their 
Vicennial  but  the  time  was  all  too  short  to  cover  the  period 
between  1914  and  1919.  On  a  Sunday  afternoon  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  driving  around  Hanover,   seeing  the  old  and 


151 


new    Dartmouth.      My   time   did   not   allow   me   to   prowl 
around  as  I  would  have  enjoyed  doing. 

With  best  of  wishes, 

Your  classmate, 

Luther  F.  Oakes. 


Empress  Hotel,  Victoria,  B.  C,  November  28,  1919. 
My  dear  Kenneth: — 

I  wonder  if  you  realized  how  good  that  was  in 
your  note  to  me — when  you  asked  me  to  report  from  my 
part  of  the  country — saying,  "you  have  'the  still  north'  in 
your  veins".  I  certainly  have  been  still — so  far  as  class 
reports  go — for  too  long  a  time.     I  hereby  reform. 

I  am  here  in  this  beautiful  little  town  some  one  hundred 
miles  from  Seattle  for  the  week-end.  I  should  suggest 
that  we  work  in  an  extra  class  reunion  here — say  in  a  year 
or  so.  It  would  make  a  fine  trip  for  the  bunch  and  I  will 
be  glad  to  assist  as  host  to  you  all  in  order  that  I  may  catch 
up  a  little  on  the  anniversaries  I  have  missed. 

I  have  seen  Surrey  and  his  family  here  twice,  so  you 
see  it  must  have  its  good  points  when  such  a  conservative 
as  Surrey  repeats.  Last  summer  Pearl  and  Mrs.  Pearl 
were  here.  I  took  them  up  into  the  mountains  to  see  some 
much  lauded  and  painted  water  falls.  Raymond  said  it 
out-did,  by  a  little,  anything  he  had  heard  of  Western 
exaggeration — there  wasn't  a  solitary  drop  of  water  coming 
over  the  falls  the  day  we  were  there,  but  we  had  a  most 
pleasant  visit. 

As  regards  my  proposed  reunion  here — it  might  be 
added  in  parenthesis,  and  of  no  significance  to  anyone 
probably — that  here  in  B.  C.  you  can  get  a  prescription  for 
all  the  bottled  sunshine  you  might  need  at  prices  which  are 
now  only  matters  of  historical  interest  in  the  States. 


152 


As  to  myself — I  have  been  plugging  along — getting  a 
living  and  a  little  more — mostly  Gynocology  and  some  ob- 
stetrics. 

As  to  the  family — we  have  two  boys — one  ten  and  the 
other  two  and  one-half.  All  are  well.  We  live  in  town 
in  the  winter  or  school  months  and  have  a  little  place  out 
about  eight  miles  on  the  beach  in  the  summer.  My  wife 
drives  her  little  coupe,  of  a  popular  make,  out  herself 
with  the  kids — so  they  get  a  lot  of  fresh  air. 

We  hope  to  get  back  East  soon — were  very  much  dis- 
appointed that  we  couldn't  make  it  this  fall. 

Remember  me  most  kindly  to  all  of  the  '99  men  you 
may  meet  and  think  over  that  suggestion  for  a  trip  out 
here.     References — Surrey,  Pearl. 

Sincerely, 
Bones  Woodward. 


My  dear  Secretary: — 

Just  a  few  lines  to  answer  your  letter  of  July  28. 
Since  Christmas  have  had  nothing  but  sickness  in  the 
family.  March  3rd  we  were  blessed  with  twin  girls,  Mary 
Ash  and  Martha  Ash;  Mary  Ash  deceased  March  6th. 
Mrs.  Ash  recovered  very  slowly  but  is  now  in  fine  condi- 
tion, also  Martha  who  weighed  20  pounds  at  her  fifth 
month. 

About  May  1st  was  taken  sick  myself.  Got  back  from 
hospital  August  5th.  Am  able  to  get  around  a  little  but 
recovering  slowly.  Hunting  season  now  open  and  I  can't 
get  away. 

Yours  as  ever, 

J.  W.  Ash. 

Here's  a  P.  S.  from  John's  letter  to  George  in  June: 

"All  I  can  say  is  I  hope  the  Reunion  will  be  a  roaring 

153 


success  with  the  accent  on  the  roar,  and  tell  Jack  Sanborn 
to  put  in  an  extra  roar  for  me  and  if  Oregon  wasn't  dry 
I  might  manage  a  few  roars  on  my  own  account. 

"But  above  all  things  I  think  you  had  better  get  some- 
body else  to  mix  the  concoction  this  year,  there  was  nothing 
the  matter  with  the  results  before  but  they  came  too  quick 
for  some  of  us." 


1 199  Stevenson  Avenue,  Pasadena,  Cal.,  May  31,  1919. 
Dear  Georgie: — 

That  in  the  year  1919,  the  Twentieth  anniversary 
of  the  greatest  event  in  American  history,  I  should  be  com- 
pelled to  write  that  I  will  be  unable  to  return  to  Hanover  in 
June  is  to  me  a  moment  of  poignant  regret.  Such,  however, 
is  the  case.  I  have  spent  several  months  this  winter — or 
those  months  that  should  be  winter,  but  aren't  in  Cali- 
fornia— in  bed,  and  though  I  have  been  around  for  a  few 
days  I  will  not  be  able  to  make  the  trip. 

I  may  as  well  admit,  displeasing  as  it  is,  that  I  have 
been  in  very  poor  health  for  three  years.  The  condition 
of  my  health  forced  me  to  sell  my  farm  a  year  ago  and 
since  then  we  have  been  living  here. 

The  fact  of  retiring  to  California  does  help,  however, 
as  this  is  a  most  delightful  section  in  which  to  live.  Ribbons 
of  paved  road  stretch  in  every  direction,  making  it  possible 
for  one  to  reach  in  a  few  hours  either  the  ocean  or  the 
high  mountains.  In  the  year  we  have  been  here  we  have 
driven  7,000  miles.  Our  drives  have  been  comparatively 
short  ones,  yet  we  have  not  exhausted  the  points  of  interest 
in  the  accessible  territory. 

In  spite  of  its  natural  attractions  Southern  California 
is  shy  on  Dartmouth  men,  particularly  of  our  time.  "Pete" 
Adams,  the  one  exception,  who  resides  only  five  blocks 
from  here,  has  a  fine  "Old  New  England"  house  even  to 

154 


the  square  squat  chimney  and  green  blinds,  entirely  sur- 
rounded by  California  bungalows.  "Pete"  has  kept  on 
"plugging"  until  about  the  only  thing  he  doesn't  know  is 
the  number  of  his  own  degrees,  titles  and  honors.  Most 
assuredly  "the  wonder  grew  that  one  small  head  could 
carry  all  he  knew". 

"Young  Perk"  was  in  Los  Angeles  shortly  before  we 
arrived  but  feeling  the  need  of  the  bracing  effect  of  a  good 
"East"  wind  he  went  back  to  Boston  before  I  had  a  chance 
to  see  him. 

I  believe  that  concludes  a  full  and  accurate  account 
of  my  uneventful  life  for  the  past  three  years. 

I  was  much  grieved  to  learn  of  the  passing  of  "Herb" 
Collar.  I  have  nothing  but  the  pleasantest  memories  of 
the  three  years  we  roomed  together,  in  fact  it  was  one  of 
the  finest  associations  of  my  life. 

Do  not  think  for  a  minute,  Georgie,  that  I  do  not  ap- 
preciate the  effort  you  and  others  have  made  to  hold  the 
class  together,  but  really  I  could  not  get  in  the  mood  to 
write.  However,  it  has  been  an  inspiration  to  me  to  receive 
the  reports  and  communications  from  you.  Particularly 
gratifying  were  the  reports  of  the  support  given  by  the 
class  to  the  government  during  the  war. 

I  certainly  envy  you  the  trip  to  Hanover  for  the  re- 
union, the  sight  of  the  old  place  and  renewing  the  pleasant 
associations.  But  it  is  not  for  me  this  year.  However, 
Mrs.  "Kimmie"  joins  me  in  sending  greetings  to  the  class, 
with  best  wishes  for  members  and  honorary  members. 

As  always  yours, 
Arthur  E.  Kimball. 


Phoenix,  Arizona,  P.  O.  Box  1008,  August  6,  1919. 
Dear  Kenneth: — 

So    far    I    have   not    heard    what    went    on    at    Han- 
over during  the  reunion  and  your  request  was  first  news 

155 


to  me  of  your  selection  and  election  as  Secretary.  Beal 
is  a  great  name  to  hand  down  in  the  famous  '99  Secretary 
Hall  of  Fame,  along  with  Barstow,  Donahue  and  Clark 
and  you  surely  have  some  great  records  to  equal  or  sur- 
pass. Owing  to  the  peculiar  fitness  of  our  Secretaries  the 
successor  to  any  one  is  bound  to  be  able  to  take  up  the 
work,  continue  without  interruption  and  adjust  himself 
to  any  occasion  that  may  arise.  It  is  with  deepest  sincerity 
that  I  congratulate  the  class  and  yourself. 

As  yet  I  am  not  really  able  to  say  anything  for  my- 
self, for  after  almost  twenty  years  in  one  office,  pursuing 
one  line  of  business  which  I  had  always  considered  as  my 
life  work,  not  anticipating  or  expecting  any  change,  I  find 
myself  in  a  totally  different  state,  climate,  situation  and 
hope  for  future,  my  family  en  route,  my  household  goods 
the  same,  every  track  and  vestige  of  my  Lares  and  Penates 
obliterated  from  the  East  and  about  to  be  set  up  in  the 
great  and  glorious  Southwest.  However,  while  my  first 
and  real  reason  is  on  account  of  Mrs.  Hodgkins'  health, 
yet  like  a  true  '99er  I  leave  that  part  of  our  country  with 
no  regrets  or  sorrows,  for  if  there  is  a  job  for  me  to  do 
I'll  do  it  with  a  smile.  At  the  present  time  there  is  ap- 
parently no  serious  reason  why  we  should  come  here,  but 
another  five  years  in  that  climate  would  have  caused  trou- 
ble so  we  are  here  to  avert  it. 

There  are  no  mills  in  these  parts,  no  cards,  spinning 
mills  nor  looms,  no  particular  market  nor  demand  for  white 
flannel  or  woolen  goods,  so  after  looking  around  a  bit  I 
was  presented  with  my  board  bill  or  rather  room  bill,  as  no 
hotels  serve  meals.  That  made  me  think,  for  no  matter 
whether  a  man  be  prince  or  pauper  he  receives  that  little 
bill  for  a  place  to  put  his  head  and  he  has  to  pay  it  or  sleep 
under  the  stars.  His  first  expense  is  a  room  and  as  I  was 
held  up  at  once  and  gave  up  ready  money,  cash,  why 
couldn't  I  turn  around  and  do  the  same?  So  I  "picked 
up"  the  Hotel  Washington  and  although  this  is  supposed 
to  be  the  leanest  season  of  the  year,  I  am  making  my  salt 

156 


and  have  "hopes".  A  person  can  get  credit  at  the  bank, 
from  friends  and  various  ways,  but  he  can't  beat  "us  ho- 
teliers," for  he  lays  down  that  little  price  before  he  goes 
to  sleep.  So  while  I  am  looking  around  at  the  various  and 
wonderful  opportunities  in  this  famous  Salt  River  Valley 
I  have  a  little  business  to  keep  the  wolf  away.  Guy  Grif- 
fin '98,  one  of  the  most  loyal  and  energetic  of  Dartmouth 
men,  has  "The  Tucsonia"  at  Tucson,  125  miles  south  of 
Phoenix,  also  "The  Bowman"  at  Nogales  on  the  border, 
and  is  very  successful  and  well  known  in  Arizona.  Paul 
Redington  1900,  District  Forester  for  New  Mexico  and 
Arizona  with  headquarters  at  Albuquerque,  N.  M.,  passes 
through  occasionally,  so  I  have  a  friend  one  class  before 
and  one  after  '99. 

According  to  the  latest  figures  compiled,  Arizona  has 
more  per  capita  wealth  than  any  other  country  in  the  world 
and  affairs  are  carried  along  on  a  much  larger  scale  than 
in  the  East.  During  June  it  was  a  bit  warm,  the  thermom- 
eter hovering  around  11 6°  for  days  at  a  time  with  no 
rain.  Since  then  it  has  been  somewhat  cooler  and  the  winters 
are  wonderful.  I  have  worn  white  summer  clothes  since 
the  middle  of  May  and  will  until  into  October — no  coats 
nor  collars  and  sleeves  rolled  up.  In  June  my  transporta- 
tion to  Hanover  was  all  reserved  and  the  good  George 
Clark  had  sent  me  a  list  of  music  required  and  a  copy  of  the 
play  and  everything  seemed  favorable  for  the  trip,  but  I 
unfortunately  broke  my  right  little  toe  while  swimming  and 
also  several  business  affairs  came  up  so  I  felt  compelled  to 
cancel  the  trip.  It  hurt  to  do  it  more  than  you  fellows 
perhaps  realize  and  you  can  imagine  how  hungry  I  am  for 
news. 

Later  on  when  my  family  arrives  and  is  all  settled  in 
the  new  home  will  remember  to  send  you  some  dope  on 
the  possibilities  and  opportunities  of  this  wonderful  state 
and  this  city  in  particular  which  is  growing  by  leaps  and 
bounds. 


157 


With  very  best  wishes  for  success  and  a  warm  shake 
for  each  and  every  one,  I  am, 

Most  cordially  yours, 

Willis  B.  Hodgkins. 


P.  O.  Box  1008,  Phoenix,  Arizona,  August  18,  1919. 
Dear  Kenneth: — 

That  was  a  very  fine  letter  received  this  morn- 
ing and  I'll  just  thank  you  for  it  right  now  so  as  to  prove 
that  3,000  miles  is  not  so  far  after  all,  for  it  does  not  seem 
but  a  few  days  since  I  wrote  and  yet  it  takes  about  io 
full  days  for  mail  to  go,  get  answered  immediately,  and 
return. 

Surely  your  accounts  acted  as  a  copious  draught  to 
parched  lips  and  I  have  been  living  over  the  old  days  and 
trying  to  picture  all  the  happenings  of  those  so  recently 
enjoyed  by  you  all. 

There  are  a  few  expressions  used  here  which  are 
characteristic  of  other  places — the  southern  influence  for 
instance  producing  "you-a\\"  for  "you" — "Where  are  you- 
all  going"  addressed  to  one  person,  or  "how  are  you-all 
this  morning."  One  never  hears  a  quarter  or  a  half  or 
seventy-five  cents  mentioned — 2  bits,  4  bits,  or  six  bits,  and 
by  the  same  token  8  bits  is  not  mentioned  for  a  dollar. 
There  is  the  twang  of  the  Texan  and  the  cursing  of  the 
cow-puncher,  but  rapidly  the  city  assumes  mannerisms  from 
other  parts  as  the  population  rapidly  increases.  At  one 
time  this  was  a  desperate  state  but  now  is  calm  and  pliable, 
no  booze,  woman  suffrage,  cheap  politics  and  some  of  other 
kinds.  However,  the  gambling  has  not  entirely  passed  out 
for  at  four  o'clock  this  morning  there  was  a  shooting  affair 
ending  fatally  but  no  one  seems  to  pay  much  attention  to 
it  for  they  remember  the  influence  of  the  old  days  when  that 
little  pastime  occurred  frequently  and  out  went  the  "shotee," 
buried  with  his  boots  on. 


158 


The  family  by  this  time,  if  on  schedule,  is  now  at 
Newton,  Kansas,  about  half  way  across  the  state,  for  Kan- 
sas' width  east  and  west  is  one  deuce  of  a  ride,  and  they 
are  due  at  9:45  Wednesday  morning.  Our  time  is  two 
hours  later  than  ,Boston  time  one  change  coming  at  De- 
troit and  the  second  at  Dodge  City,  Kansas.  The  third 
and  last  to  the  coast  is  just  west  of  here  about  50  miles 
or  so.  We  have  long  twilights  but  not  light  very  early  in 
the  morning.  I  have  been  awake  plenty  of  mornings  at 
4  A.  M.  but  needless  to  say,  without  the  milkpail  on  my 
arm.  People  who  know  me  have  seen  me  as  a  bachelor  and 
when  I  trot  around  with  my  flock  aboard  the  "boat"  will 
think  I  have  obtained  a  ready-made  family  in  a  hurry. 

After  living  so  long  under  exacting  conditions  incident 
to  mill-bell  regime,  it  is  certainly  a  free  and  unrestrained 
life  to  be  my  own  boss.  This  little  hotel  is  full  to  the  roof 
and  I  have  a  waiting  list.  In  order  to  get  team  work  I 
am  the  owner  and  my  manager  runs  the  place,  living  here 
and  on  the  job  practically  all  the  time.  As  I  enter  in  the 
morning  he  says,  "Good-morning,  Chief,"  and  I  answer 
"Good-morning,  Vaughan,  anything  new?"  I  sit  at  my 
desk  perusing  my  extensive  (?)  mail  and  he  brings  in  the 
accounts  which  I  enter  in  my  tabulated  "disbursement" 
sheets,  so  that  at  any  moment  I  can  tell  you  where  the 
house  stands  as  to  my  account.  As  yet  I  have  not  taken 
up  each  room  for  my  class  of  guests  precludes  such  scien- 
tific figuring,  but  before  next  June  I  will  know  pretty 
blooming  well  what's  what  in  this  line.  I  subscribed  to 
the  Merchants'  Police  Patrol  and  an  officer  visits  the  place 
three  or  four  times  during  the  night.  If  there  is  anything 
out  of  the  way  he  informs  me  before  calling  on  the  police 
and  works  for  my  interest.  In  that  way,  for  the  modest 
sum  of  five  dollars  per  month  I  am  able  to  keep  tabs  on 
my  house  without  being  here  myself  or  making  my  clerk 
stay  up  all  night.  So  far  there  has  been  no  report  and 
while  I  have  some  people  in  the  house  whose  lives  are  not 
blameless,  yet  as  far  as  conduct  in  this  place  is  concerned 

159 


there  is  ho  complaint.  I  will  send  you  another  epistle 
later  to  complete  my  record,  before,  during  and  after  ar- 
rival of  all  my  wealth — a  wife  and  four  kids.  Hope  you  are 
getting  along  splendidly  and  having  a  grand  vacation  and 
rest. 

With  kindest  thoughts,  yours, 

Willis  B.  H. 


P.  O.  Box  1008,  Phoenix,  Arizona,  December  13,  1919. 
Dear  Kenneth: — 

I  give  my  box  number  as  an  address  which  you 
can  put  in  your  file  as  official,  but  I  have  received  mail  with 
no  address  at  all  save  "Phoenix."  Don't  make  the  error 
that  I  am  well  known  for  it  simply  means  that  the  postal 
clerk  leisurely  consults  his  list  and  finds  that  a  boob  with 
that  name  has  1008  as  his  number. 

Am  slowly  picking  up  life  again  and  today,  one  day 
over  five  weeks  since  my  "cutting-up"  party,  the  doctor  re- 
moved every  vestige  of  dressing,  bandage,  etc.  Twice  this 
week  I  have  been  down  town  on  business,  but  along  mid- 
afternoon  am  glad  to  hike  home  and  get  into  my  "regi- 
mentals"— pajamas,  sweater  and  bath-robe  and  loaf  in  front 
of  the  fire.  As  this  is  my  last  trip  (hope  so  at  any  rate) 
I  am  going  to  take  my  time  about  hurrying  back  to  the  job. 

My  wife  arrived  on  August  20  with  the  four  children 
and  a  bunch  of  trunks.  She  went  through  and  sorted  all 
the  accumulations  of  eighteen  years  in  a  seventeen-room 
house,  packed  boxes  and  trunks,  and  had  all  the  furniture 
and  stuff  packed  up,  sold  the  flivver  and  moved  the  family 
out  here — all  without  any  extra  help  except  the  men  who 
packed.  That  for  a  woman  who  came  to  Arizona  for  her 
health ! 

In  four  weeks  the  car  of  furniture  arrived  and  then 
the  fun  began.     It  was  my  turn  and  after  the  smoke  had 

160 


cleared  away  I  had  to  go' to  the  hospital  to  be  made  over  and 
she  is  still  on  the  job  in  every  way!  Of  course  she  is  care- 
ful and  not  rugged,  but  wiry,  and  while  able  to  keep  up  and 
going  cannot  do  too  much.  She  is  so  happy  to  have  her 
whole  family  again  that  she  would  have  been  willing  to 
go  anywhere,  provided  they  would  be  with  her. 

Barbara,  my  oldest,  fourteen  last  April,  had  com- 
pleted two  years  in  Punchard  High  at  Andover  and  went 
right  into  Junior  year  in  this  high  school.  Edward,  nine 
in  June,  was  ready  for  fourth  grade,  but  in  October  was 
put  into  fifth  and  brings  home  report  cards  which  remind 
me  of  some  of  mine — they  are  so  different.  William,  five 
last  March,  c*annot  enter  until  next  September,  so  we  have 
him  in  a  Primary  Forenoon  School,  and  Richard,  four  in 
October,  holds  the  fort  at  home.  Our  house  is  of  the 
bungalow  type — everything  on  one  floor,  and  after  the  old 
ark  at  Ballard  Vale  seems  like  some  new  way  of  living- 
There  we  climbed  twenty  steps  to  get  on  second  floor  and 
nineteen  to  third  and  had  so  much  room  that  we  used  a 
house  phone.  Here  a  whispered  word'  can  be  heard  all 
over  the  place  but  it  is  a  life-saver  for  Mrs.  H.  Think  of 
all  the.  energy  lost  in  those  years  of  climbing  and  not  getting 
anywhere  except  to  bed!  After  the  long  period  in  what  I 
thought  was  a  life  fixture  all  these  different  things  seem 
almost  incredible — as  though  I  were  in  a  trance  and  would 
wake  up  some  morning  to  hear  the  old  mill  bell  and  find  the 
dream  over;  but  again,  to  know  I  am  actually  living  and  that 
today  is  the  thirteenth  of  December,  windows  and  doors 
open,  roses  still  in  bloom,  lawns  green,  no  snow,  sleet  or 
icicles — then  the  difference  comes  home.  The  nights  are 
cold  and  we  need  a  fire  and  next  month  may  have  one  in 
the  furnace  for  night  and  morning,  but  the  general  run 
of  weather  is  delightful  especially  to  us,  for  our  blood 
is  not  yet  thinned  out.  People  who  have  lived  here  for 
some  years  wear  sweaters  and  heavy  winter  clothing,  and 
to  send  them  north  or  east  in  the  winter  would  probably 
kill  them,  but  as  it  takes  a  long  time  to  bring  about  that 

161 


condition  I  am  not  really  scared  yet.  In  the  northern  part 
of  the  state  it  gets  very  cold  but  it  is  about  7000  feet  above 
sea  level  and  no  wonder.  This  state  is  so  large  that  abso- 
lutely the  whole  of  New  England  could  be  set  down  within 
its  limits  and  about  twenty-five  percent  of  New  York  State 
in  addition.  All- varieties  of  almost  everything  grow  or  live 
here — people  included.  A  man  just  returned  from  a  point 
northwest  150  miles  says  he  was  in  a  copper  mine  the  other 
day  and  helped  kill  a  rattler  eight  feet  long  with  sixty-seven 
rattles  on  his  tail — really,  that  is  a  fierce  one  but  he  is 
having  the  skin  treated  and  guarantees  to  prove  it  and  here 
a  liar  is  sentenced  to  death,  so  it  must  be  true.  In  the  fall 
we  killed  four  scorpions  in  the  house,  but  luckily  before 
they  had  bitten  anyone.  Tarantulas  grow  as  big  as  pie- 
plates  and  the  desert  has  centipedes,  lizards  and  harmless 
jack-rabbits  and  cotton-tails.  The  famous  Gila  Monster, 
a  long  orange  and  black  spotted,  lizard-like  creature,  makes 
his  appearance  in  the  spring  and  summer  and  one  at  least 
ought  to  be  sent  to  Princeton. 

Well  say,  I  am  surely  filling  you  up  with  all  kinds  of 
stories,  some  of  which  I  have  said  before,  but  it  really  is 
a  most  interesting  place  and  its  history  so  different  from 
that  of  the  East  where  we  start  in  1620  from  the  top  of 
old  Plymouth  Rock.  Long,  long  before  that  there  were 
cliff-dwellers  and  all  sorts  of  prehistoric  peoples  roarning 
around  these  parts  and  our  old  friend  Cortez  left 
his  cards  in  various  places.  True,  back  there  are  evidences 
of  Indians,  etc.,  but  here  there  is  a  sort  of  ancient  atmos- 
phere and  the  present  reclamation  projects  stand  out  in 
bold  relief.  No  old  houses  with  stories  of  a  half  dozen 
generations  in  the  family  seat — the  state  wasn't  even  sur- 
veyed until  after  the  Civil  War.  No  old  worn  out  farms — 
there  are  not  animals  nor  fertilizer  enough  in  the  country 
to  fertilize  these  thousands  and  thousands  of  acres  and 
as  yet  there  is  no  need,  for  by  rotating  crops  the  land  goes 
right  along  about  its  business. 


162 


/ 

You  can  readily  see  from  all  my  letters  that  the  change 
is  complete,  that  it  is  all  in  our  own  country,  our  own 
United  States,  3000  miles  from  New  England  and  yet  less 
than  four  days  on  the  train:  that  I  am  trying  to  adjust 
myself  to  the  country  and  its  life.  It  is  a  cosmopolitan 
city,  growing  rapidly  and  permanently,  beautiful  yet  crude 
in  some  respects.  To  live  here  is  an  education,  to  live  else- 
where the  same,  but  to  come  right  from  our  old  East  and 
dump  here  bag  and  baggage  is  surely  a  revelation. 

Surely  I  await  the  report  with  the  greatest  anticipa- 
tion and  how  strange  to  read  it  away  out  here! 

Good  fortune  and  happiness  to  you  and  yours,  and  may 
the  load  be  lighter.  The  very  happiest  season  possible  is 
my  wish  to  you  and  sometime  you  may  be  here  as  the  princi- 
pal of  this  wonderful  Phoenix  Union  High  School.  Tell 
Walter  Eastman  to  run  a  '99  special  out  here  via  New  York 
Central  and  Santa  Fe. 

Yours  as  ever, 

Hodg. 


Rolla,  Mov  September  28,  1919. 
Dear  "K":— 

Your  appeal  for  a  letter  struck  me  at  just  the  wrong 
time  as  I  was  on  my  way  to  Rolla  with  my  family  in  my 
Ford.  We  left  Orono  July  23d  and  reached  Rolla  on  the 
16th  of  August.  We  were  not  traveling  all  of  that  time  as 
we  made  several  two  and  three  day  stops  with  relatives. 
We  passed  through  Hanover  and  tried  to  stir  up  a  little 
enthusiasm  in  the  ten-year-old  boy  that  we  hope  to  send 
to  Dartmouth  some  day.  On  the  whole  we  had  a  very 
pleasant  trip,  good  weather,  very  little  tire  or  engine  trouble, 
lots  of  interesting  experiences  and  lots  of  pleasant  memories. 

I  was  very  sorry  that  I  could  not  be  with  the  fellows  in 
Hanover  in  June.    At  the  time  you  were  in  Hanover  I  was 

163 


in  Washington  to  meet  the  director  of  this  school.  You 
are  already  aware  that  my  trip  to  Washington  was  suc- 
cessful. I  spent  two  nights  with  Tony  Willard  and  his 
family  at  Bladensburg.  Tony  and  I  were  both  elected  as 
full  Professors  at  Maine  in  June,  but  the  chance  to  become 
the  head  of  the  department  of  Physics  here  with  twenty- 
five  per  cent  increase  in  salary  made  it  seem  worth  while 
for  me  to  leave  Maine  and  come  to  the  School  of  Mines. 
This  is  part  of  the  University  of  Missouri,  buf  it  is  situated 
at  Rolla  in  order  to  be  nearer  to  the  mining  part  of  the 
state. 

I  am  glad  that  you  are  to  be  our  secretary  as  I  am 
sure  that  the  interests  of  the  class  will  be  well  taken  care 
of  in  your  hands.  I  do  not  believe  that  many  classes  have 
been  as  fortunate  in  the  choice  of  secretaries  as  has  the 
class  of  '99.  Every  man  we  have  had  has  put  his  whole 
heart  and  soul  into  the  work  and  we  want  them  to  know 
that  the  rest  of  us  appreciate  it  too. 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

L.  E.  Woodman. 


S.  Antonio,  September  8,  19 19. 
Dear  Kenneth: — 

Your  good  letter  and  its  chaser  have  arrived  but  I've 
been  so  busy  gathering  my  corn  crop  and  surveying  leases 
and  cutting  up  ranches  that  I've  had  no  chance  to  write. 
You  see  we've  had  one  of  those  rare  wet  years  down  here 
in  the  chapparal,  sort  of  an  anticipation  of  the  big  dry 
spells  maybe,  anyway  we  raised  a  fragment  of  a  crop  and 
are  having  a  time  saving  it  to  strengthen  our  foundation: 
i.  e.  a  full  corncrib  is  the  best  thing  on  a  farm — but  really 
I  have  powerful  little  to  write  about — one  day  is  as  like 
another  as  two  grains  off  the  same  cob,  and  while  we  know 
the  world  does  move  the  movement  is  imperceptible.     My 


164 


brother  for  whom  you  kindly  inquired  is  now  editor  of  the 
Fort  Worth  Record  and  likes  it — I  will  send  him  your  letter. 
October  6 — I  haven't  been  able  till  now  to  continue  this 
letter  but  you  have  already  reached  two  conclusions :  first 
that  I'm  a  "peach"  of  a  letter  writer,  dear  Kenneth,  and, 
second,  that  I  can't  write  a  letter  to  save  my  life.  Since 
my  last  effort  a  carib  has  come  ashore  and  side-wiped  us — 
like  "Cav"  used  to  fan  the  Amherst  ends  and  backs  when  in- 
terfering for  "John"  or  "Mac" — anyway  it  knocked  things 
around  considerable  and  was  followed  by  heavy  rains  which 
have  washed  roadways  and  made  it  boggy  in  places.  Most 
unusual  sort  of  a  year  here  on  the  edge  of  the  desert,  losing 
our  bumper  crops,  which  honest  to  goodness  we  didn't 
expect  to  make,  because'  it  won't  stop  raining  long  enough 
for  us  to  get  'em  stowed  away.  And  our  ubiquitous  Mexi- 
can has  hied  him  to  Kansas  city  and  Minneapolis  and  all 
points  north  and  east  on  account  of  better  pay.  Had  an- 
other big  rain  today,  about  four  inches,  as  we  used  to  say, 
and  the  big  circus  which  rolled  in  last  night  said  "ta  ta 
San  Tone"  and  rolled  out  without  showing  or  getting  stuck 
in  the  mud.  Dear  Kenneth,  this  is  not  a  class  letter.  My 
days  of  writing  class  letters  are  over,  but  I  was  glad  to 
hear  of  you  and  from  you  as  I  am  of  every  member  of  '99. 
All  are  well  down  here  on  the  farm. 

With  regards,  yours  as  ever, 

Arthur  H.  W.  Norton. 


Road  1,  Box  12D,  San  Antonio,  Texas,  October,  1919. 
Dear  Ken: — 

Yours  of  the  14th  just  at  hand.  I  have  had  this  letter 
in  my  pocket  trying  to  get  it  to  town  through  the  mud  and 
washouts.  I  inclose  you  two  samples  of  my  corn  crop  for 
your  inspection.  The  long  one  is  called  "Gourd"  corn  a 
soft  easy  shelling  variety  of  16  to  24  rows,  somewhat  sub- 
ject to  rust  and  soft  enough  to  invite  weevil.     The  first 


165 


\ 

defect  can  be  reduced  perhaps,  but  not  the  second.  It  is 
the  best  suited  for  our  conditions  of  any  I  know  of.  Sample 
two — the  round  fat  kernel  is  an  exotic,  from  Brazil,  10  to 
12  rows,  long  cob,  sticks  to  the.  cob  like  glue  and  extremely 
subject  to  weevil.     It  was  only  an  experiment  this  year. 

Please  note  change  of  my  rural  box  number. 

With  regards,  yours  as  ever, 

Arthur  H.  W.  Norton. 


Lesson  Three:   The   Near-Western  9 

Now  if  your  system  can  stand  a  little  more  higher 
mathematics,  let  us  introduce  you  to  the  next  figure  9. 
East  of  the  Mississippi  but  west  of  Pennsylvania  are  9 
more  '99  men.  And  having  traced  through  the  farther 
western  '99  localities  a  broadish,  stoutish  John  Duby  of  a 
9,  let's  make  this  one  a  Franko-French  sort  of  9. 

Put  your  pencil  on  Detroit  right  between  where  Neal 
Hoskins  makes  a  business  of  doctoring  and  George  Rounds 
tries  to  doctor  big  business ;  draw  a  quick  line  straight 
northwest  to  the  northernmost  shore  of  Lake  Michigan, 
where  Wattie  is  building  that  paper  mill  at  Manistique; 
skim  back  down  the  western  edge  of  the  Lake  to  Cush  in 
Chicago ;  and  continue  to  the  lowest  left-hand  corner  of 
Indiana,  where  ,Bennie  makes  Evansville  toe  the  educa- 
tional chalkline.  Now  whisk  about  as  though  you  were  on 
an  indoor  running  track,  call  on  Squaw  Kirk  in  Indianapolis, 
make  a  hop,  skip  and  a  jump  back  through  Dr.  Homer 
Carr's  office  in  Niles,  Michigan,  and  so  close  your  longish 
thinnish  9  loop  at  Detroit  again.  Whence  it  is  simple 
enough  to  draw  your  approximately  perpendicular  stroke 
south  through  Peddie's  classroom  in  Oberlin,  to  Harry 
Wason's  home  in  Atlanta,  or  on  into  Florida  if  you  insist, 
where  he  has  been  all  summer. 


166 


Please  don't  talk  back  to  the  teacher.  If  that  9  isn't 
on  the  Geodetic  Survey  Map  it's  a  mere  oversight.  Stop 
arguing  and  go  out  and  get  the  rest  of  that  mail. 


Detroit,  Mich.,  October  17,  19 19. 
My  Dear  Kenneth: — 

I  am  in  receipt  of  your  letter  of  October  13  and  its 
predecessors,  all  of  which  urged  me  to  give  my  impressions 
of  the  reunion  in  Hanover  last  June. 

Inasmuch  as  it  was  my  first  experience,  the  first  re- 
union since  we  graduated  twenty  years  ago,  it  is  not  strange 
that  I  should  be  most  enthusiastic. 

.  My  only  regret  since  then  has  been  the  realization  of 
my  misfortune  in  not  having  attended  any  of  the  reunions 
before. 

George  Rounds,  whom  you  mention  in  your  letter,  I 
have  seen  but  little  of.  The  last  time  was  about  two  years 
ago.  I  hear  he  has  since  then  been  married  and  lives  here  in 
Detroit,  and  is  connected  with  the  Social  Service  Depart- 
ment of  the  Ford  Automobile  Co. 

Carr,  the  last  time  I  heard  of  his  whereabouts,  was 
living  in  some  town  up  state,  where  he  was  engaged  in  the 
general  practice  of  medicine. 

As  to  the  rest  of  the  class  members,  it  is  very  seldom  I 
see  any  of  them. 

On  my  annual  journeys  East,  every  summer,  I  usually 
arrange  to  see  Bob  Johnston  and  spend  some  time  with  him. 
This  last  summer  was  no  exception  to  the '  rule,  and  we 
spent  the  small  part  of  ten  days  in  each  other's  society.' 

I  hope  in  succeeding  reunions  I  may  be  fortunate 
enough  to  attend,  and  I  shall  bend  every  effort  that  it  may 
be  possible. 

With  best  wishes  to  you,  I  remain, 

Sincerely  yours, 
Neal  L.  Hoskins. 


167 


Manistique  Pulp  &  Paper  Co., 
Office  of  Resident  Engineer, 

September  8,  19 19. 
Dear  Kenneth: — 

Your  postcard  reminder  came  today  and  I  will  try  to 
make  up  for  lost  time  by  getting  something  off  to  you  to- 
night. 

It  was  a  very  happy  moment  for  me  when  the  Army 
authorities  decided  to  grant  me  a  leave  and  I  put  my  foot 
on  the  train  for  good  old  Dartmouth  and  Hanover.  , 

The  trip  north  from  Boston  was  very  pleasant  and 
seemed  very  short  for  the  time  was  passed  in  the  company 
of  a  few  of  the  old  class  and  their  families. 

At  the  Hanover  station  a  welcome  surprise  awaited  us. 
I  had  had  a  vision  of  a  ride  to  the  campus  in  one  of 
"Hamp's"  old  coaches  but  instead  of  that  I  found  the  sta- 
tion almost  surrounded  by  machines  driven  by  our1  boys. 

The  route  from  the  station  was  over  the  new  drive 
which  we  dedicated  five  years  ago  and  which  has  been 
made  into  a  fine  entrance  to  the  town. 

At  Massachusetts  Hall  we  found  that  many  of  the 
class  had  already  arrived  and  others  came  on  later  trains. 

The  days  seemed  altogether  too  short  for  meeting 
and  reuning  with  all  the  old  friends  but  our  worthy  com- 
mittee had  so  arranged  the  program  of  events  that  every 
available  moment  was  made  use  of. 

One  of  the  things  most  noticeable  was  the  absence  of 
so  many  old  familiar  faces  among  the  faculty. 

Within  our  own  membership  the  changes  seemed  to 
be  few.  Perhaps  we  appeared  to  be  more  steady  and  staid 
citizens  of  the  country  and  with  a  little  more  gray  hair 
or  perhaps  less  of  the  head  covering. 

I  was  particularly  glad  to  see  "Cav"  in  such  good 
shape  after  what  he  had  been  through  and  the  reports  which 
I  had  received  while  on  the  other  side  of  the  water. 


168 


The  dinner,  as  usual,  was  a  most  pleasant  affair  and 
as  I  sat  at  the  table  and  looked  around  the  room  at  the 
old  familiar  faces  there  came  to  mind  many  little  incidents 
connected  with  each  one  during  our  four  years  of  close 
association. 

The  morning  after  the  dinner  I  had  to  hurry  back  to 
Military  Duty.  It  was  hard  to  "break  away"  from  the 
class,  and  the  five  years  before  the  next  meeting  seemed 
long  indeed  but  there  was  a  feeling  of  gladness  that  I  had 
once  more  been  present  at  the  reunion. 

Regarding  your  note  about  what  I  had  to  say  to  the 
class  at  the  dinner  you  will  find  a  far  better  summary  than 
I  can  now  give  in  the  history  of  my  Company  which  I 
wrote  and  of  which  George  Clark  has  a  copy.  If  you  can 
not  get  his  copy  write  to  Mrs.  Evelyn  Cable,  1307  Boule- 
vard, New  Haven,  Conn.,  who  can  probably  find  an  extra 
copy  among  my  things  and  send  it  to  you. 

I  was  discharged  from  the  Army  on  July  17th,  1919  and 
went  back  to  work  for  the  New  Haven  R.  R.  but  an  at- 
tractive offer  from  Mr.  Hardy  through  Tom  Whittier  which 
I  accepted  made  me  leave  the  R.  R.  on  August  2nd  and  on 
the  4th  I  was  on  my  way  to  this  place,  Manistique,  Mich., 
to  look  after  the  building  of  a  large  paper  mill.  I  shall  be 
here  probably  until  the  early  part  of  next  year. 

Ever  since  our  graduation  twenty  years  ago  our  class 
has  been  noted  in  Dartmouth  circles  for  the  manner  in 
which  it  has  "hung  together"  and  this  close  association  has 
been  due  almost  entirely  to  our  able  secretaries  and  execu- 
tives and,  perhaps  because  the  most  recent,  the  untiring 
efforts  of  George  Clark  stand  out  in  bold  relief.  Duriing 
these  recent  years  of  strife  and  business  stress  he  has  al- 
ways found  time  to  keep  in  touch  with  the  widely  scattered- 
members  of  the  class  and  drop  to  each  words  of  good  cheer. 

At  his  request  a  number  of  the  boys  wrote  me  letters 
of  greeting  during  the  holiday  season  of  19 18,  each  believ- 
ing at  the  time  that  I  was  sick  in  some  hospital  in  France. 
I  had  returned  to  duty  by  that  time  but  was  so  busy  that 


169 


I  never  found  time  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  them 
and  I  wish  now  to  thank  them  one  and  all  for  what  they 
did  in  helping  to  tide  over  a  second  absence  from  home 
during  the  Christmas  days. 

Yours  truly, 
Herbert  L.  Watson. 


Chicago,  III.,  September  5,  1919. 
Dear  Kenneth: — 

I  have  just  returned  from  my  vacation  and  that  is  the 
reason  I  did  not  write  before.  I  drove  to  Randolph  again 
and  think  I  can  call  it  the  best  trip  that  I  have  ever  made. 
Went  by  the  way  of  Pittsburg,  Gettysburg,  Delaware, 
Water  Gap,  New  York  and  Boston. 

I  went  over  to  Hanover  several  times  and  each  time 
called  on  Jim  but  the  old  devil  was  away.  I  am  going  to 
write  in  a  few  days  and  make  an  appointment  for  next 
August  as  I  do  not  wish  to  miss  him  again. 

Fat  DuBois  was  about  as  usual.  Says  he  will  have 
his  new  teeth  in  a  few  days.  I  allowed  with  new  teeth 
there  would  be  no  excuse  for  1924  and  he  agreed  with  me. 
I  might  add  that  we  had  a  little  game  while  at  home  and 
"Fat"  held  four  sevens  against  my  four  fives.  "Fat" 
said  it  was  satisfactory  and  that  he  enjoyed  it. 

With  two  or  three  exceptions  I  thinjk  the  fellows 
looked  very  well.  I  noticed  that  each  fellow  was  not  only 
interested  in  himself  but  in  the  other  fellows.  All  I  can 
say  is  that  the  friendship  between  every  '99  man  is  wonder- 
ful and  I  am  sure  it  will  always  be  that  way. 

Harold  Kirk  called  on  me  in  July.  He  is  still  with 
the  Portland  Cement  Company  and  doing  well.  He  has 
promised  to  go  East  with  me  in  1924.    ' 

Now,  Mr.  Sec,  if  there  is  anything  I  can  do  for  you  at 
any  time  give  me  a  call. 

Yours, 

"Cush." 


170 


Sunday,  November  16,  1919. 
Dear  K:— 

Having  spent  all  day  writing  up  the  stuff  for  the  report, 
I  am  dismayed  to  find  that  there  is  still  the  letter  unwritten. 
I'll  make  it  very  brief. 

The  joyous  thing  about  the  reunion  is  that  one,  like 
myself,  who  sees  only  one  or  two  '99ers  a  year  between  the 
five-year  periods  can  pick  right  up  where  he  left  off  five 
years  before,  and  find  the  same  old  Jim  Barney  and  Donny 
and  Carl  and  Celery  that  he  left  at  the  last  reunion,  can 
tell  Peddy  and  Jerry  and  Franko  everything  that  has  hap- 
pened in  the  meantime  and  feel  perfectly  at  home.  And  to 
find  that  you  now  feel  close  to  an£  brotherly  toward  some 
fellows  that  you  never  knew  particularly  well  in  college. 
Just  to  see  Pap  and  Hoss  and  Bob  and  Buck  and  Cav  chum- 
ming around  together  again  was  worth  the  trip  east.  I 
saw  Squaw  just  before  we  left,  but  could  not  induce  him  to 
come. 

The  funniest  thing  that  I  saw  while  I  was  there  was 
the  way  Charlie  D.  Adams  enjoyed  the  fun,  particularly 
the  antics  of  Buck,  at  our  class  dinner.  The  saddest  sight 
was  the  aging  of  dear  old  Johnny  Vose  and  Gabe.  The 
thing  that  will  stick  longest  in  my  memory  was  the  way*  the 
fellows  doubled  up  at  the  reference  made  by  Professor 
Johnston  to  one  of  the  college  buildings  which  was  sub- 
sequently rebuilt  as  Fayerweather  Hall. 

The  thing  that  I  regret  the  most  is  that  it  was  all  so 
short,  and  that  everybody  had  to  dig  out  so  early. 

When  I  become  a  millionaire  I  am  going  to  stage  a 
ninety-nine  reunion  that  shall  last  two  weeks,  and  see  to  it 
that  every  member  of  the  class  has  a  vacation  of  that  length 
while  his  income  goes  on  just  the  same,  and  all  his  ex- 
penses are  paid. 

You  ask  what  has  happened  to  us  since  the  reunion. 
Hardly  a  thing.  The  children  are  growing  bigger  and  I 
am  growing  a  little  thinner  and  older.     My  wife  is,  as  I 


171 


hoped  she  would  be,  a  firm  Dartmouthite  on  her  own  ac- 
count now,  and  wonderfully  enthusiastic  about  all  the  wives 
that  she  met.  We  only  wish  that  the  next  reunion  were 
next  year. 

I  have  a  new  business  interest  which  I  did  not  have 
a  year  ago.  Two  friends  of  mine  and  myself  have  bought 
controlling  interest  in  a  small  furniture  factory  here.  We 
make  four-poster  wooden  beds,  wooden  lamp  stands  and 
phonograph  cabinets.  It  may  pan  out  and  make  us  some 
money,  and  it  may  break  us :  time  will  tell. 

I  am  working  all  my  spare  moments,  on  a  new  text 
book  for  eighth  grade  children.  Hope  to  have  it  in  the 
hands  of  the  publishers  by  New  Year's. 

My  best  wishes  for  your  success  in  the  new  job.  Our 
old  chapel  seat — Barney,  Barstow,  Beal,  Benezet  and  Ber- 
ger, — has  had  its  share  of  class  honors — two  secretaries 
and  a  member  of  the  executive  committee. 

Elmer  surely  set  some  pace  for  you  other  fellows  to 
follow.  Donny  and  George  have  kept  it  up  and  surely 
you  will,  too.  Each  fellow  has  done  just  a  little  better  than 
his  predecessor,  but  only  because  of  what  his  predecessors 
have  done.  Their  achievements  have  made  this  possible. 
You,  with  your  four  boys  and  wife  to  keep  you  busy,  will 
be  particularly  pressed  for  time.  George  was  the  ideally 
situated  man.  And  he  certainly  made  an  ideal  executive. 
I  understand  that  the  pace  he  set  put  a  lot  of  pep  into 
other  class  secretaries. 

With  best  wishes  to  you  and  yours, 

Sincerely, 

Bennie. 


Indianapolis,  Indv  June  6,  19 19. 
My  dear  Cushman: — 

Your  note  was  forwarded  to  me  and  while  I  sure 
would  like  to  stage  a  little  vacation  am  too  busy  right  now 
to  even  think  about  it. 

172 


Am  spending  most  of  my  time  in  Indianapolis  and  have 
less  time  than  ever. 

Had  lunch  with  Benezet  in  Evansville  not  long  since. 
Sorry 'I  can't  be  with  you. 

Best  wishes, 

Squaw. 


124  Morgan  Street,  Oberlin,  Ohio,  August  14,  1919. 
My  dear  "IC:— 

Your  election  to  the  secretarial  succession  brings  you 
to  a  position  of  responsibility  and  opportunity  which  has 
been  made  unique  by  your  predecessors.  George  Clark 
gave  the  job  the  peculiar  flavor  of  a  parish  priest.  The 
form  is  set  for  you;  the  filling  of  it  will,  I  am  sure,  give 
new  significance  to  the  remarkable  series  of*  advantages 
that  the  class  has  had  in  the  personalities  of  its  first  three 
secretaries. 

I  know  that  our  enthusiasm  for  what  you  will  do, 
will  be  quite  equal  to  that  we  have  had  for  the  others;  but 
like  every  parishioner  who  loves  his  pastor,  I  cannot  yet 
forget  the  impress  that  George  made  upon  us.  The  most 
outstanding  result,  I  think,  of  his  service  to  us  has  been 
the  sense  of  affection  and  solidarity  which  must  be  very 
rare  in  college  classes  anywhere  to  the  degree  in  which  we 
have  it.  I  haven't  words  adequately  to  express  the  ap- 
preciation I  feel  for  George  Clark;  and  if  I  did  not  know 
that  the  holdover  of  his  undivided  interest  in  the  class 
would  be  at  your  constant  service,  I  should  have  a  genuine 
feeling  of  regret. 

Our  reunion  was  certainly  most  satisfying.  I  was  a 
little  surprised  to  find  that  we  had  become  more  quiet, 
though  I  know  none  of  us  felt  any  older.  The  picnic  and 
the  play  were  the  two  most  outstanding  events,  on  account 
of  their  uniqueness  and  high  quality.     We  certainly  made 


173 


a  record  in  the  historical  sequence  of  class  reunion's  by 
those  two  events.  I  can't  understand  how  anybody  can 
be  so  bright  as  "Donny."  My  only  regret  is  that  some 
of  you  didn't  stay  longer,  and  that  all  of  the  rest  were 
not  there. 

I  was  anxious  to  hear  more  of  the  reflections  of  other 
men.  Our  one  preacher,  "Montie,"  has  softened  his  the- 
ology in  ten  years,  and  I  can't  help  feeling  that  the  work 
he  is  doing  in  his  rural  parishes,  with  his  earnestness  of 
purpose,  is  of  growing  value. 

The  one  thing  that  perhaps  might  summarize  my  feel- 
ings for  the  reunion  as  a  whole,  is  the  fact  that  with  the 
increasing  diversity  of  our  interests,  there  is  an  increased 
unity  in  our  spiritual  attitude. 

Very  sincerely, 

Peddy. 


September  18,  1919. 
My  dear  George: — 

I  have  had  a  wonderful  summer.  I  have  been  to 
Washington  three  times  and  to  New  York  twice,  but  most 
of  the  rest  of  the  time  here,  and  I  have  read  serious  books 
and  novels  with  a  little  golf  and  garden  for  variety.  I 
think  I  have  never  had  such  a  teeming  of  ideas  before.  I 
am  only  afraid  they  will  not  organize.  Am  reading  Joseph 
Conrad.  Never  read  anything  of  his  before.  I  think  he 
is  wonderful. 

Well,  I  am  a  free  man  again.  I  have  had  one  deuce 
of  a  time  with  that  blooming  Union,  but  I  resigned  last 
week  after  everything  had  been  brought  to  a  proper  condi- 
tion. Most  appreciative  resolutions  were  passed  in  ac- 
cepting the  resignation,  and  I  was  presented  with  one  of  the 
chairs  which  John  Wanamaker  gave  for  the  use  of  the 
signers  in  Independence  Hall.    I  shall  have  it  appropriately 

174 


marked  and  instruct  my  children  that  sometime  the  chair 
is  to  go  to  Dartmouth  College.  I  value  it  very  highly.  The 
disposition  of  the  bell  is  especially  pleasing  to  me.  The 
little  state  of  Rusinia  which  was  born  in  our  Union  is  au- 
tonomous under  Czechoslovakia,  has  as  its  governor  Zat- 
kovich  who  represented  them  or  it  in  the  Union  He  had 
just  come  back  for  his  family.  It  was  voted  to  give  the  bell 
to  the  permanent  custody  of  Czechoslovakia  to  be  depos- 
ited in  Prague,  and  to  be  lent  to  any  of  the  other  countries 
for  exhibition  as  they  request.  Zatkovich  is  taking  it 
over  at  once.  That  is  where  it  ought  to  be.  The  Inde- 
pendence Hall  chairs  are  to  go  to  each  country  as  it  be- 
comes free.  I  plan  to  spend  next  summer  in  southeast 
Europe.  I  still  am  in  as  much  doubt  as  ever  as  to  whether 
I  have  finished  or  just  begun.  The  world  is  certainly  in 
chaos  and  there  is  not  much  to  do  now  but  to  mark  time 
and  collect  your  thoughts. 

I  enclose  outline  of  a  course  of  lectures  that  I  am  to 
give  in  Cleveland  this  fall  and  winter.  I  am  working  very 
hard  on  them.  There  will  be  a  good  stenographer  present 
and  there  ought  to  be  a  book  right  on  the  spot.  They 
begin  the  last  of  October,  and  are  arousing  a  good  deal  of 
interest.  The  titles  sound  so  good  that  I  would  like  to  go 
to  the  course  myself. 

The  Plumb  Plan  is  most  interesting  to  me.  I  am  a 
complete  supporter  of  it.  Plumb  is  an  Oberlin  man.  I  see 
that  his  daughter,  whom  I  have  not  yet  met,  is  in  my  class. 
I  heard  him  last  Saturday,  and  he  is  coming  here  to  speak 
soon. 

I  suppose  Bill  is  back  long  before  this.  How  does  he 
settle  down  to  earning  his  living?    Give  him  my  welcome. 

The  frost  has  spoiled  all  the  gardens  in  Plymouth  by 
this  time.  My  garden  is  at  its  finest  now.  It  will*  seem 
strange  to  me  not  to  have  any  occasion  to  drop  into  Boston. 

Very  sincerely, 

Ped. 


175 


Here's  the  course  Peddie  speaks  of : 
THE   SUBSTITUTE  FOR  REVOLUTION 
A  Study  of  Group  Conflict,  by 
Herbert  Adolphus  Miller 
Professor  of  Sociology,  Oberlin  College 
Chief  of  Division  on   Immigrant  Heritages,  The 
Carnegie  Corporation's  Study  of   Methods  of 
Americanization. 

Organizer  and  Director  of   the  Mid-European  Union 
Vice  President,  League  of  Friends  of  Korea 

The  Individual  and  the  Group. 

Normal  and  Abnormal  Conflicts. 

The  Mid-European.  Problem. 

Ireland,  India,  French  Canada,  Mexico,  and  Korea. 

The  Negro. 

The  Class   Struggle. 

Defensive   Institutions. — Religion   and  Language. 

The  Oppression  Psychosis. 

The  Paradox  of  Americanization. 
10.  The  National  Way  Out  vs.  Revolution. 


October  16,  19 19. 

My  dear  Kenneth: — 

Of  course  it  requires  a  little  adjustment  for  everyone 
to  settle  down  after  a  year  as  varied  as  mine  last  year.  77 
is  a  year  ago  tonight  that  I  began  work  on  the  Czechoslovak 
Declaration.  It  was  a  wonderful  night's  work.  I  re- 
member going  to  a  service  one  Sunday  night  in  Bowdoin 
Square  with  my  sister  and  the  idea. that  has  always  stood 
out  from  that  meeting  was  that  you  cannot  live  on  the 
laurels  of  yesterday.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  getting 
somewhere  and  being  able  to  sit  down.  It  is  a  rather  hard 
lesson  to  learn,  but  it  is  a  good  one  to  get  learned. 


176 


The  world  is  awfully  interesting  to  a  sociologist,  and 
the  advantage  of  being  a  teacher  instead  of  an  agent  as 
I  was  last  year  is  that  you  can  talk  about  what  is  and  what 
ought  to  be  without  a  responsibility  to  make  your  theories 
deliver  in  actual  affairs.  I  remember  Crehore  tried  to 
make  us  see  that  a  theory  must  be  the  way  something 
worked.  That  may  be  true  in  pure  physics,  but  it  it  not 
true  in  life  generally.  The  other  games  are  so  exciting 
that  I  forgot  to  notice  the  score  in  the  World's  Series.  I 
must  confess  that  I  am  getting  awfully  humble  about  that 
course  of  mine.  It  is  some  job  I  have  undertaken  when 
one  sees  that  the  revolution  is  already  in  full  swing.  I  en- 
close the  leaflet  which  is  being  circulated  in  Cleveland. 

I  suppose  your  boys  are  full  of  football  at  this  season. 
The  only  sign  of  age  that  I  notice  is  that  I  am  not  so  much 
interested  as  I  used  to  be.  I  am  deliberately  choosing  to 
hear  a  discussion  of  the  Plumb  Plan  in  Cleveland  Satur- 
day rather  than  go  to  an  exciting  game.  I  have  a  daughter 
and  nephew  of  Plumb  in  one  class. 

The  advertising  by  Joe  of  the  sesqui-centennial  is 
good.  How  useful  his  Latin  has  been  to  him!  It  ought  to 
be  an  argument  for  the  retention  of  the  classics.  It  will  be 
a  great  time  in  Hanover  for  the  next  few  days. 

Very  sincerely, 

Peddie. 


Tampa,  Florida,  October  26,  1919. 
My  dear  Kenneth: — 

Your  letter  of  the  13th  reached  me  promptly  and  made 
me  feel  guilty  when  I  looked  up  the  next  previous  one, 
dated  July  28th,  which  has  not  been  answered. 

Possessed  originally  of  an  easy  going  disposition  the 
seven  years  of  life  in  the  South  have  emphasized  the  qual- 
ity. In  my  mail  this  morning  there  came  a  mild  reproof 
from  my  wife  for  failing  to  write  for  four  days. 

177 


Since  saying  good-bye  in  June  I  have  been  travelling 
constantly  in  Florida. 

Mental  processes  and  physical  activity  become  well 
nigh  impossible  during  the  long  nine  months  of  summer 
which  we  have  in  Southern  Florida. 

The  reunion  was  to  me  the  brightest  spot  in  the  twenty 
years  since  graduation.  I  am  sure  it  was  the  finest  one 
ever  held.  The  only  regret  I  felt  was  that  I  had  allowed, 
what  at  the  time  seemed  unsurmountable  reasons,  to  keep 
me  away  from  all  previous  class  gatherings.  It  is  my  fixed 
purpose  to  be  present  at  all  future  reunions  until  the  end 
of  the  chapter. 

I  wonder  how  many  of  us  appreciate  to  what  a  great 
extent  we  are  indebted  to  George  Clark  for  the  great  amount 
of  time  and  energy  required  in  the  preparation,  to  say 
nothing  of  his  unflagging  service  and  perpetual  thought- 
fulness  and  courtesy  to  each  of  us  and  our  families  during 
the  twentieth  anniversary. 

Please  scare  a  letter  out  of  "Doc"  Hawkes.  Next  to 
me  he  was  the  laziest  man  in  the  class.  After  the  reunion 
he  and  Mrs.  Hawkes  invited  the  Wason  family  to  join 
them  in  what  proved  to  be  a  most  delightful  motor  trip 
through  the  White  mountains  and  the  Maine  coast. 

By  the  way,  Kenneth,  if  you  think  of  it  let  me  know  the 
date  of  the  next  '99  round  up  in  Boston.  Perhaps  I  can 
connect. 

We  have  a  few  alumni  in  the  East  but  there  is  such  a 
disparity  in  ages,  residences  and  interests  that  our  attempts 
to  form  an  association  thus  far  have  been  abortive.  The 
chief  reason  is  that  many  of  us  are  engaged  in  business 
which  keeps  us  moving  over  long  distances.  Thus  we  can 
seldom  get  together.  However,  I  do  not  propose  to  wait 
five  years  more  to  foregather  with  those  of  ninety-nine  so 
please  send  me  your  schedule  when  the  date  is  set. 

As  ever,  sincerely, 

Harry  Wason. 


178 


Lesson  Four:  The  Eastern  9 

Having  properly  digested  the  preceding  lessons  of  this 
course  in  advanced  geography,  you  are  now  presumably 
ready  for  a  whale  of  a  lesson  on  what  remains.  Not  9 
towns  or  9  cities  or  9  men  this  time,  but  the  '99  towns 
and  cities  and  men  in  9  states:  The  solid  Northeast  in  fact 
since  we  don't  specialize  as  yet  on  the  smaller  states  like 
Rhode  Island  and  Delaware. 

And  you  will  please  take  particular  note  that  '99  holds 
the  country  in  the  hollow  of  its  hand,  so  to  speak,  that 
she  distributes  her  outposts  with  an  absolute  regard  for 
strategic  points. 

Take  the  four  corners  of  the  country:  there's  Bones 
Woodward  in  the  far  Northwest,  there's  Doc  Norton  in 
the  far  Southwest,  and  there's  Harry  Wason  in  the  extreme 
Southeast.  Pin  up  the  Northeast  and  you  have  it!  But 
can  you? 

To  make  sure,  we  place  sentries  on  both  sides  the 
border,  Weary  Wardle  in  Grand  Mere,  Province  of  Quebec, 
and  Bert  Boston  in  the  Caribou  High  School,  Maine,  near 
the  New  Brunswick  line;  and  we  have  backed  them  both 
up,  and  incidentally  this  whole  mathematical  proposition, 
by  getting  Tony  Willard  to  sell  his  house  in  ,Bladensburg, 
Maryland,  and  sending  him  back  as  full  Professor  of 
Mathematics  to  the  University  of  Maine  in  Orono. 

So  much  for  the  "four  corners,"  and  here  are  Weary 
and  Tony  to  represent  the  fourth  one. 


Grand  Mere,  P.  Q.,  November  23,  1919. 
Dear  Ki- 
ln the  first  place  I  want  to  apologize  to  you  personally 
for  having  delayed  so  long  in  answering  your  several  letters. 


179 


The  fact  is  that  when  I  am  busy  I  haven't  time  to  write  and 
when  I'm  not  busy  I'm  too  lazy. 

My  trip  to  our  twentieth  was  rather  a  lonesome  one 
as  Mrs.  W.  had  been  under  the  doctor's  care  since  Christ- 
mas of  1918  and  was  not  strong  enough  to  risk  the  trip. 
I  pasted  the  '99  label  on  the  windshield  but  was  unable  to 
pick  up  anyone  on  the  way  down.  I  passed  through  Ver- 
mont a  few  miles  up  from  where  ,Fat  DuBois  is  supposed 
to  hang  out  but  was  not  sure  of  the  route  to  his  place  and 
so  did  not  hunt  him  up  as  I  supposed  of  course  that  Fat 
would  surely  turn  up  anyway.  Next  time  I'll  hitch  my 
touring  line  around  him  and  see  that  he  gets  there. 

Like  everyone  else  I  suppose  that  my  joy  at  seeing  the 
fellows  that  were  there  was  tempered  with  disappointment 
at  not  seeing  Lute  Oakes,  John  Ash,  Tom  Whittier,  Doc 
Norton,  Bones  Woodward,  Bill  Colbert  and  all  the  rest 
of  the  alibi  holders.  I  was  expecting  to  take  Jack  Sanborn 
up  to  the  golf  links  and  trim  his  lilacs  but  something  must 
have  happened  to  Jack  at  the  last  minute.  Skeet  Tibbetts 
and  I  had  a  few  rounds  together  which  were  very  success- 
ful (for  Skeet)  and  enjoyed  by  all.  Of  course  Cav  was 
the  fellow  that  everybody  was  tickled  to  death  to  see 
again  safe  and  sound,  and  we  all  missed  Willis  Hodgkins. 

I  suppose  that  George  Clark  has  told  you  everything 
about  his  trip  up  here  except  how  glad  I  was  to  see  him. 
You  don't  know  how  good  it  seems  to  see  some  of  the  boys 
up  here  once  in  a  while.  We  have  a  good  many  attractions 
in  addition  to  good  grub  and  a  place  to  sleep  that  is  waiting 
for  anybody  that  wants  to  try  it.  (There  are  no  strings 
on  this  invitation  except  that  summer  is  the  best  time.) 

It's  too  early  to  make  any  promises  but  I  shall  try  hard 
to  make  the  Round-up  in  March.  I  shall  certainly  try  to  get 
to  Hanover  again  next  June  and  hope  to  see  many  of  you 
'99  fellows  there.  Next  to  our  own  reunions  at  Hanover  I 
enjoy  seeing  the  other  classes'  reunions. 

Now,  K,  be  sure  and  send  the  report  by  next  mail  and 
don't  be  too  rough  with  me  for  being  such  a  procrastinator. 

180 


You  sure  are  the  most  persistent  cuss  that  we  have  ever 
had  for  a  class  secretary  and  I'll  say  that's  going  some. 

Yours  sincerely, 

Weary. 


Orono,  Maine,  December  20,  19 19. 
My  dear  Kenneth: — 

Your  request  for  a  letter  and  two  or  three  prodding 
postals  were  received.  I  fully  intended  to  write  long  before 
this,  but  moving  up  here  from  Washington,  getting  settled, 
and  getting  to  going  again  in  the  teaching  line  have  taken 
most  of  my  time.  Consequently,  I  have  postponed  writing. 
This  letter  may  be  too  late  for  the  Report,  but  I  am  sending 
it  along  to  show  that  there  is  no  hard  feeling. 

I  tried  to  write  a  letter  last  year,  but  George  wouldn't 
let  me.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  he  wouldn't 
print  one  if  I  wrote  it.  Well,  "there's  a  reason,"  I  don't 
know  but  that  I  should  have  done  the  same  if  our  positions 
had  been  reversed.  I'll  respect  his  feelings,  however,  and 
not  write  the  story,  but  I  suggest  that  you  question  him 
closely  with  regard  to  certain  instances  connected  with  his 
work  in  Washington.  I  mention  this  merely  to  show  you 
that  I  am  not  so  habitually  delinquent  as  you  may  think. 

Our  work  in  Washington  is  an  old  story.  We  were 
kept  busy  preparing  the  food  statistics  of  the  country,  but 
the  work  was  interesting  and  we  were  confident  that  we 
were  performing  an  essential  part  of  the  business  of  fighting 
the  war.  In  the  Statistical  Division  of  the  Food  Adminis- 
tration Pearl  had  gathered  about  him  an  especially  effi- 
cient and  loyal  organization.  When  a  report  was  called 
for  it  was  got  out  accurately  and  on  time.  Pearl  deserves 
great  credit  for  his  work  in  organizing  and  directing  this 
division.  While  none  of  us  wanted  to  see  the  war  pro- 
longed,  every  one,   I  believe,  regretted  when  the  ties   of 

181 


association  had  to  be  broken  and  the  personnel  of  the  organi- 
zation scattered.  The  details  have  been  related,  and  I  will 
not  repeat  them.  One  of  the  pleasantest  features  was  the 
opportunity  afforded  the  '99  men  located  in  Washington  to 
get  together  occasionally  and  renew  old  acquaintances. 
Accounts  of  those  meetings  also  have  been  given  the  class. 
Walt.  Eastman's  description  of  our  trip  to  Fairfax, .  Vir- 
ginia, after  making  allowances  for  his  imagination,  in  the 
main  was  correct.  In  neglecting  to  state  that  in  the  hurried 
retreat  after  the  third  battle  of  Bull  Run  all  the  casualties 
were  left  on  the  field  of  battle  he  omitted  an  essential  de- 
tail. 

When  the  Food  Administration  was  dissolved  I  worked 
for  about  twelve  weeks  in  the  War  Trade  Board  helping 
prepare  a  "History  of  Prices  During  the  War."  This  work 
was  done  under  the  direction  of  Prof.  Wesley  C.  Mitchell, 
Editor-in-Chief.  This  history  included  prices  of  about  1500 
articles,  and  most  of  the  work  was  completed  in  three 
months.  When  published  it  covered  about  2000  octavo 
pages. 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  work  I  accepted  an  appoint- 
ment as  Special  Agent  in  the  Division  of  Agriculture  of 
the  Bureau  of  the  Census.  In  accepting  the  appointment 
I  fully  intended  to  remain  with  them  during  the  three  years 
of  the  decennial  census  period.  Along  in  the  summer, 
however,  I  received  an  offer  of  promotion  in  the  University 
of  Maine,  resigned  from  the  Census  Bureau,  and  moved 
back  to  Orono. 

If  Pearl's  insinuations  in  the  last  Report  with  regard 
to  the  real  reasons  back  of  my  moving  out  on  the  Baltimore 
road  were  correct,  what  may  be  said  about  his  moving  into 
Baltimore  itself?  As  a  matter  of  fact  I  couldn't. stand  the 
drought  down  that  way,  so  I  came  back  to  Maine  where 
from  long  experience  they  have  learned  how  to  do  business 
even  in  dry  times.  I  can  see  only  one  explanation  for 
Pearl's  being  able  to  stay  in  Baltimore  permanently. 


182 


It  doesn't  seem  really  like  old  times  here  with  the  '99 
crowd  broken  up,  Pearl  in  Baltimore  and  Woodman  in 
Rolla,  Missouri.  Everyone  was  sorry  to  have  Woodman 
leave  the  University  of  Maine,  for  he  had  made  a  good 
record  here.  Woodman  is  rated  as  a  good  physicist,  but 
to  my  mind  his  reputation  as  a  scientist  has  one  blot  upon 
it.  He  tried  the  experiment  of  preaching  on  successive 
Sundays  in  a  Baptist  and  a  Methodist  church.  Soon  after- 
ward he  had  a  serious  illness.  This  fall  he  drove  a  Ford 
from  Orono  to  Rolla,  Missouri.  Again  he  had  a  period 
of  sickness.  A  man  trained  in  experiment  should  have 
been  able  to  trace  and  predict  the  probable  effect  of  a  se- 
vere moral  strain  on  his  physical  constitution. 

With  regard  to  my  family  we  are  now  pleasantly  located 
in  Orono.  All  are  well,  and  there  is  nothing  new  to  report. 
Living  conditions  here,  I  judge,  are  not  much  different  from 
those  in  other  parts  of  the  country.  Rents  are  very  scarce 
and  desirable  ones  are  practically  unobtainable.  I  had  to 
purchase  a  place  in  order  to  be  sure  of  having  a  house 
over  our  heads.  I  guess  it  is  just  as  well,  though,  for  one 
might  as  well  pay  rent  to  himself  as  to  anyone  else. 

I  was  very  sorry  to  miss  the  reunion  in  Hanover  last 
June,  but  it  was  absolutely  impossible  for  me  to  be  there. 
Ikey  Leavitt  very  kindly  offered  us  a  ride  from  New  York 
to  Hanover  in  his  Ford,  or  some  other  brand  of  automobile, 
but  even  with  that  inducement  my  wife  and  I  could  not  go. 
As  the  next  best  thing  I  shall  wait  anxiously  for  the  letters 
from  the  '99ers  in  the  forthcoming  class  report.  Give  my 
regards  to  the  rest  of  the  fellows. 

Sincerely  yours,  < 

Harley  R.  Willard. 


To  make  this  a  really  Q.  E.  D.  proposition  on  that  "9 
states"  claim,  we  will  call  our  witnesses.  We've  had  Maine. 
New  Hampshire! 

183 


New  Hampshire 

'99's  New  Hampshire  starts  with  Guy  Speare  in  Little- 
ton, and  goes  down  through  Plymouth  where  Ernest  Silver 
runs  his  flourishing  Normal  School  winter  and  summer; 
and  where  George  Clark  last  July  would  take  "a  splash  in 
the  river  after  a  day  in  the  hayfields  and  haymows,  where 
the  sweat  ran  out  like  a  spring  freshet,"  or  in  October  at 
the  local  fair  attended  by  ten  thousand,  could  see  the  exhi- 
bition aeroplane  ''circling  over  his  meadows  like  a  great 
hawk." 

Southwest  we  go  through  Meredith,  about  which  cluster 
the  memories  of  the  last  days  of  George  Prescott,  gone 
from  us  only  since  middle  November.  Continuing  below 
Lake  Winnepesaukee  we  pass  Dover  and  Luke  Varney's 
50-acre  farm  and  reach  the  Portsmouth  quartette.  Here 
Bill  Colbert  is  still  recuperating,  with  a  little  business  on  the 
side.  Guy  Corey  still  offers  legal  counsel,  and  across  the 
river  in  Kittery  Bobbie  Rowe  and  Fred  Locke  do  their 
part  in  peace  as  recently  in  war  to  make  the  Navy  Yard 
play  its  important  role  in  the  life  of  the  nation. 

Crossing  the  state  westward  we  stop  at  Mun  Folsom's 
in  West  Epping  as  did  Jim  Walker  coming  down  from  Lee 
just  to  the  north  when  he  found  Mun  not  equal  in  health 
to  the  joyous  excitement  of  the  Vicennial,  but  never  dream- 
ing that  in  five  months  Mun  would  be  gone.  Manchester 
greets  us  next,  where  Rab  Abbott  yet  brightens  the  walls 
of  its  homes  and  Dave  Parker  brings  back  lustre  to  the  tired 
eye  and  vigor  to  the  broken  body.  Stop  off  a  moment  to 
the  southwest  at  Milford  and  Hale  Dearborn  greets  you, — 
in  his  brother's  place ;  or  turn  north  and  Bob  Johnston  tells 
his  latest  yarn  in  Concord.  jBut  westward  ho !  again  to 
see  if  Herb  Rice's  potatoes  in  Henniker  beat  the  average 
crop  this  year.  And  now  we  reach  the  southwest  corner 
of  New  Hampshire  with  Charlie  Adams  and  Sturtevant  in 
Keene  and  Hoppy  in  West  Swanzey.  We  are  not  ready, 
however,  to  leave  the  state,  home  of  Dartmouth,  without 


184 


traveling  up  the  Connecticut  back  to  Hanover.  Here  Dave 
Storrs  sells  the  books  that  Mushie  prints  (in  October 
Frank  had  285  jobs  running  simultaneously  and  was  work- 
ing from  5  A.  M.  around  the  clock  to  2  A.  M.  again), 
Meanwhile  Skeet  Tibbetts  manages  to  keep  busy  by  regis- 
tering the  largest  freshman  class  in  the  country,  so  that  Jim 
Rich's  political  courses  may  be  filled  to  the  brim. 
But  here  comes  the  postman,  so  I'll  stop. 


Littleton,  N.  H.  November  9,  1919. 
My  dear  Kenneth: — 

You  ask  me  to  write  my  impression  of  that  part  of  the 
great  reunion  which  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  share.  It 
is  too  hard  a  task.  But  I  will  truly  tell  you  the  dinner, 
which  I  reached  late  and  left  early,  was  an  epoch  in  my 
life.  Two  things  struck  me  to  the  heart.  First  was  the 
democracy  of  the  class  which  has  deepened  and  mellowed 
with  the  years.  It  was  the  Dartmouth  spirit  with  that 
something  added  which  is  peculiarly  '99.  Second  was  the 
seriousness  of  the  men,  a  seriousness  underlying  all  the 
old  boyish  mirth  which  characterized  the  good-fellowship 
of  that  wonderful  gathering.  It  was  the  seriousness  of  men 
who  are  giving  their  lives  to  service  and  do  not  readily 
speak  of  it  except  when  the  clan  gathers.  It  appeared  in 
the  good  humor  of  the  fellows  at  table,  and  in  the  after- 
dinner  addresses.  I  had  to  come  away  while  Cavanaugh 
was  speaking  though  I  heard  the  half  of  his  talk. 

I  think  the  whole  thing  over  now  and  I  can  not  under- 
stand why  I  did  not  move  heaven  and  earth  to  attend  the 
whole  blessed  week.  As  it  is  I  missed  all  but  four  hours  of 
"Arcardy". 

Cordially  yours, 

Guy  E.  Speare. 
P.  S.     I  may  add  this  personal  postscript  of  appreciation 


185 


of  "your  letter  and  to  tell  you  that  it  has  been  my  good  for- 
tune to  know  very  well  indeed  your  cousin  W.  A.  Bacon. 
He  is  pastor  of  the  church  which  holds  my  membership. 
I  should  think  the  ties  of  blood  might  call  you  some  time 
to  Littleton  where  we  should  be  all  joyed  to  see  you. 

G.  E.  S. 


Ashmont,  Mass.,  October  30,  1919. 
My  dear  "K"  Beal:— 

We  have  recently  returned  from  a  ten-days'  sojourn 
with  George  Clark,  at  his  delightful  farm  in  Plymouth,  and 
at  your  behest,  and  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  have  not 
as  yet  enjoyed  that  pleasure,  I  am  glad  to  tell  you  a  little 
about  "Clarkwood"  and'  its  hospitable  host. 

The  large  white,  old  fashioned  farmhouse  of — well,  I 
don't  know  how  many  rooms— as  it  is  against  George's 
principles  to  count  them  or  allow  any  of  his  guests  to  do 
so — but  twenty  is  a  good  guess — sits  back  from  the  road 
with  a  row  of  beautiful  maples  in  front,  and  with  an  un- 
interrupted view  of  the  mountains. 

Of  course  everyone  in  the  class  has  heard  of  the  ex- 
tensive improvements  George  has  made  in  parts  of  the 
interior,  and  his  kitchen,  laundry  and  pantries  with  all 
the  best  modern  equipment  would  draw  a  deep  breath  of 
admiration  from  every  '99  housewife. 

The  hot  water  heating  plant,  planned  by  "Willy"  Green- 
wood, seems  most  ideal  to  meet  the  demands  of  the  severest 
winter  weather  (which  is  going  some)  and  his  three  tiled 
bathrooms,  luxuriously  fitted  with  the  newest  and  best 
plumbing,  are  a  very  great  delight. 

The  front  rooms  of  the  house  both  up  and  down 
stairs  have  been  kept  with  their  old  fashioned  furnishings, 
and  when  one  wants  a  good  sing,  there  are  two  pianos — 
one  in  each  sitting  room — at  one's  disposal. 


186 


The  dining-room  is  most  alluring  with  its  many  win- 
dows and  artistic  china  cabinet  designed  by  George  and 
filled  with  old  china.  And  the  good  things  that  find  their 
way  to  the  table  would  satisfy  the  most  fastidious  appetite. 
Even  then,  one  must  inevitably  pass  by  some  of  the  dainties 
— for  there  is  a  limit  to  one's  capacity — but  George  be- 
lieves that  when  one  is  on  a  farm  he  must  have  a  farm 
appetite,  and  he  provides  accordingly. 

But  when  one  reaches  the  spacious  living-room,  re- 
modelled and  enlarged  from  the  original  kitchen,  with  the 
same  old  crane  and  brick  oven  as  well — not  forgetting  the 
rich  hangings  from  Irving  and  Casson — one  wants  to  settle 
right  down  in  front  of  a  brisk  fire  and  enjoy  the  "homey- 
ness"  of  it  all. 

And  right  here  in 'this  room,  George  comes  into  his 
own.  Of  course,  if  you  are  a  good  fireman  you  may  be 
ordered  to  see  that  the  fire  is  kept  burning,  and  bring  in 
logs  to  replenish  it  from  time  to  time — but  that's  fun,  while 
George  sits  by  in  an  easy  chair  and  reads  aloud  or  enter- 
tains you  in  true  Clark  fashion. 

The  first  night  of  our  visit  some  mutual  friends  ap- 
peared about  nine  o'clock  and  George's  first  thought  was 
to  hurry  to  the  "buttery"  and  bring  forth  canteloupes, 
raised  on  the  farm,  baked  apples,  custard  pie  and  a  large 
bowl  of  whipped  cream,  greatly  to  the  amusement  and  en- 
joyment of  the  new  arrivals. 

In  the  morning  we  all  had  to  take  a  look  at  the  four 
hundred  acre  farm,  and  walk  up  to  the  little  bungalow, 
some  distance  back  of  the  house,  on  a  slight  elevation, 
where  some  '99ers  have  visited  for  a  little,  and  inspect  the 
attractive  living-room  with  fireplace,  bed  room  and  kit- 
chenette, and  best  of  all,  the  large  screened-in  porch  which 
affords  an  even  better  view  of  the  mountains  than  one  gets 
from  the  big  house.  George  is  very  free  in  his  invitation 
to  any  one  who  seems  drawn  to  the  little  house,  to  come  up 
and  spend  the  summer  there,  and  I  know  several  who  would 
very  much  enjoy  doing  just  that. 


187 


I  shan't  attempt  to  describe  the  farm  itself,  for  I  know 
I  couldn't  do  it  justice.  I  do  know  that  one  morning  Leonard 
(I  suppose  I  should  say  Jim)  went  out  and  picked  a  bushel 
of  lima  beans  from  one  row  in  the  garden,  and  we  had  a 
canning  bee. 

We  took  grain  and  buck  wheat  to  the  grist-mill,  bring- 
ing it  back  a  few  days  later  all  ground. 

Of  course  he  has  quantities  of  potatoes,  soldier  beans 
and  winter  vegetables — and  his  new  silo  is  a  thing  of  great 
pride.  I  mustn't  forget  the  horses,  cows,  calves,  pigs,  hens 
and  ducks. 

Our  visit  was  very  much  beclouded  by  George's  ill- 
ness of  several  days,  in  spite  of  his  heroic  attempt  to  throw 
it  off.  But  we  were  very  glad  that  we  happened  to  be  there 
to  play  nurse  and  see  that  he  kept  within  bounds  until  his 
throat  was  on  the  mend. 

One  experiences  such  a  genuine  welcome  at  George's 
home  that  it  is  only  a  matter  of  a  few  minutes  before  feeling 
that  one  has  lived  there  some  time.  He  seems  so  entirely 
happy  to  be  doing  for  his  guests  that  it  makes  those  of  us 
who  have  enjoyed  his  genuine  hospitality  wish  that  all  the 
'99ers  might  have  the  same  pleasure. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Helen  Barney. 


George  left  Plymouth  in  early  August  for  a  motor 
ride  with  Ned  Warren  '01  across  Vermont  and  up  along 
the  lakes  to  Montreal.  Rumors  of  roller  skating,  bowling, 
sprained  ankles  and  mountain  climbing  added  to  voluminous 
and  stimulating  correspondence  with  a  bewildered  green- 
horn secretary  in  Harwich,  Cape  Cod,  gave  the  expedition 
quite  a  Pickwickian  tinge  of  energy,  mishap  and  sentiment. 

He  ended  by  a  three-day  visit  with  Weary  in  Grand- 
Mere,   and  a  fine  motor  trip   down   to   Quebec  with  him. 

188 


George  brought  back  a  pocketful  of  pictures  and  a  glow- 
ing account  of  a  flourishing  community  of  six  thousand 
with  their  own  electric  power  plant,  water  works,  and  pub- 
lic buildings  conjured  as  if  by  magic  out  of  the  wilderness 
by,  Wizard  Weary. 

In  early  September  George  entertained  Tim  Lynch 
and  his  bride  returning  from  their  auto  honeymoon  trip 
to  the  middle  West.  And  by  their  accounts  they  must  have 
visited  during  their  brief  stay  most  of  the  spots  of  interest 
and  beauty  in  the  vicinity  of  Plymouth. 

Later  in  the  month  Jim  iBarney  and  Mrs.  Barney  were 
at  "Clarkwood"  as  mentioned  in  Mrs.  Barney's  letter.  One 
of  their  most  interesting  experiences  was  riding  with 
George  and  Ernest  and  Mrs.  Silver  to  Sugar  Hill.  There 
they  stopped  to  look  in  the  window  of  the  "Forge",  then 
closed  for  the  winter.  By  chance  George  glanced  about, 
and  there  coming  up  the  steps  was  a  lady  in  black, — Mrs. 
Richardson!  With  wonted  simple  cordiality  she  opened 
the  "Forge,"  showed  her  unexpected  guests  the  library, 
and  served  them  tea  on  the  back  porch. 

And  in  keeping  with  their  fleeting  visit  to  Clothespins* 
beloved  retreat,  they  stopped  on  their  way  back  in  Fran- 
conia  to  call  on  Robert  Frost,  the  poet  of  New  England. 


Plymouth,  N.  H.,  August  31,  1919. 
My  dear  K.  Beal: — 

Note  the  date.  I  am  a  poor  letter  writer,  but  I  satisfy 
you  as  to  date. 

No  news  of  importance  attaches  to  my  career  since 
the  reunion.  I  have  had  a  big  summer  school  to  run  in  a 
small  town — some  job  in  these  days  of  H.  C.  L.  and  shortage 
of  help.  We  had  to  use  student  help  as  far  as  possible 
and  in  so  doing  we  used  two  shifts  at  each  meal,  setting 


189 


up  tables  twice.  If  I  had  been  running  a  hotel  at  pre- 
vailing prices,  I  could  now  retire  and  enjoy  my  declining 
years  in  leisurely,  scholarly  and  pleasurable  manner.  But 
the  '99  Reunion  this  summer  constitutes  my  only  vacation. 

Guy  Edwin  Speare  has  been  a  valuable  member  of  my 
faculty  this  summer.  Speare  is  a  recognized  authority  in 
New  Hampshire  educational  circles  in  the  teaching  of 
United  States  Constitutional  History  and  the  History  of 
Civilization.  George  Get-up  Clark  gave  a  fine  lecture  with 
slides  to  my  school.  George  is  always  good  you  know ; 
this  time  he  made  a  decided  hit.  In  the  audience  were  many 
college  graduates  who  had  heard  noted  lecturers  who  pleased 
them,  they  said  freely,  not  so  much  as  George  did.  Jim 
"Rich"  called  to  see  me  one  day  and  promised  to  return 
to  speak  some  day,  but  he  slacked.  "Donny",  too,  promised 
to  read  the  law  of  Boston  and  '99  to  us  some  day.  He 
didn't  do  it.  "Sleep"  promised  to  come  up  from  Boston 
and  Franklin  and  play  some  '99  songs  and  pianologs.  He 
didn't  do  it.  You  see,  I  planned  to  make  '99  conspicuous 
in  my  1919  school. 

Well,  K,  we've  let  George  do  it  for  a  quinquennium 
(isn't  that  a  pretty  looking  word?)  and  he  has  done  a  great 
job.  Here's  hoping  and  believing  that  the  mantle  of  the 
Barstow  succession  has  fallen  on  worthy  shoulders.  The 
job  is  indeed  a  colossal  one  such  as  nobody  but  a  literary 
"feller"  like  you  could  tackle  successfully. 

Yours  sincerely, 

Silver. 


967  Elm  Street,  Manchester,  N.  H.,  October  15,  1919. 
Dear  K:— 

Your  follow-up  postal  in  regard  to  reunion  report  re- 
ceived. Nothing  would  give  me  more  pleasure  than  to 
comply  with  your  request  with  a  long  and  exhaustive  disser- 


190 


ta.tion  on  the  glories  of  our  reunion,  etc.,  but  unfortunately 
my  pen  does  not  work  as  well  as  that  of  Donahue,  Gerould, 
Bob  Johnston  and  other  shining  lights  whom  I  might  men- 
tion. We  certainly  had  a  wonderful  time  at  the  reunion. 
It  was  in  all  respects  more  than  as  advertised,  and  that 
is  "going  some."  The  men  who  did  not  come  do  not,  and 
never  will,  know  what  they  missed,  although  I  have  faith 
to  believe  that  they  will  never  miss  another  one  after  read- 
ing this  report. 

I  am  unable  to  give  you  any  "dope"  on  the  men  that 
you  mention  in  your  postal.  I  did,  however,  see  Mott  Sar- 
gent this  summer  while  he  and  his  family  were  in  Candia. 
Mott  looks  the  same  as  he  did  ten  years  ago.  He  told  me 
that  he  was  very  sorry  that  things  shaped  up  so  as  to  pre- 
vent him  from  attending  this  reunion.  I  very  promptly 
rubbed  it  into  him  for  allowing  things  to  interfere  with  so 
important  an  engagement. 

I  am  planning  to  go  to  Hanover  the  17th  of  this  month 
to  the  anniversary  of  the  college.  Joe  Gannon,  Doc 
Hawkes,  Warren  Kendall  and  I,  together  with  our  respec- 
tive wives,  at  York  Harbor  this  summer,  planned  this 
pilgrimage,  and  we  have  been  looking  forward  to  it  with 
a  great  deal  of  pleasure.  I  am  very  much  in  hopes  that  we 
may  see  many  other  '99  men  at  this  time. 

I  might  also  say  that  I  saw  quite  a  little  of  Joe  and  his 
family,  Doc  and  his  family  and  Warren  Kendall  and  his 
family  this  summer,  as  we  all  spent  our  summer  vacation 
at  and  around  York.  We  certainly  had  some  good  times 
digging  clams  on  the  Ogunquit  clam  flats  and  reminiscing 
about  our  reunion  last  June. 

I  might  suggest  at  this  time  that  York  is  a  very  nice 
place  to  spend  a  summer  vacation,  and  to  my  mind  it  would 
make  a  very  convenient  and  attractive  spot  for  a  summer 
reunion  of  the  '99  men  and  their  families.  All  those  de- 
siring information  concerning  York  can  address  Doc 
Hawkes. 


191 


Hoping  to  see  you  in  Hanover  during  the  anniversary, 
I  remain, 

Yours  sincerely, 
David  W.  Parker. 


Concord,  N.  H.,  August  4,  1919. 
Dear  Friend  Kenneth: — 

I  have  your  valued  communication  in  which  you  ■  ask 
me  to  furnish  you  with  details  of  the  recent  excursion  to 
Hanover  on  the  occasion  of  the  '99  reunion.  I  note  par- 
ticularly that  you  say  you  could  not  stay  for  the  class  dinner 
and  to  hear  the  speaking,  and  that  you  want  to  know  what 
I  said.  Congratulations,  old  man,  on  your  escape  from  the 
class  dinner.  The  speaking  began  at  an  early  hour  and 
ran  along  on  one  or  more  cylinders  during  a  large  part  of 
the  entire  night. 

At  times  it  would  bubble  and  spout  with  life,  and  then 
anon  it  would  begin  to  drip,  and  would  drip  in  an  uncertain 
manner  for  a  few  hours,  while  one  after  another  passed  to 
sleep.  A  few-  brave  souls  got  up  and  walked  out  on  us, 
but  I  was  down  for  a  speech  so  I  had  to  stay. 

A  few  hours  after  midnight  they  called  on  me.  They 
wanted  me  to  speak,  so  they  claimed,  but  what  they  really 
wanted  was  for  me  to  not  speak,  so  that  the  crowd  could 
get  out  of  there.  They  were  pretty  sleepy.  So  I  did  not 
speak,  and  by  so  doing  won  the  admiration  and  love  of  all 
my  classmates.  It  is  a  great  gift,  Kenneth,  to  not  speak 
at  a  time  when  nobody  wants  you  to  do  so. 

You  ask  what  is  the  funniest  thing  I  saw,  during  the 
reunion.  Well  that  is  hard  to  say,  but  it  was  probably  trie 
baptism  of  Leon  with  a  few  drops  of  fast  disappearing 
gin.  Those  of  the  cognoscenti  know  what  I  refer  to.  The 
sex  of  the  child,  as  well  as  its  father,  has  not  been  deter- 
mined.    It  was  christened  Leon  or  Leone,  according  to. 

Your  obedient  servant, 

Robert  P.  Johnston. 


192 


Concord,  N.  H.,  August  22,  1919. 
Esteemed  Sir: — 

Your  favor  of  the  18th  instant  at  hand  and  contents 
noted.  I  regret  exceedingly  my  inability  to  answer  your 
questionnaire  in  which  you  want  to  know  what  Mrs.  Green- 
wood said  to  Donahue,  what  the  cop  said  to  her,  what  Jim 
said,  what  Buck  said,  etc.,  etc.,  ad  lib.  What  all  these 
people  said  I  do  not  know,  but  I  do  know  that  at  the  pic- 
nic Dr.  Neal  Hoskins,  with  his  abdominal  frontispiece  hang- 
ing out  over  the  waistband  of  his  trousers  and  the  sweat 
pouring  from  his  unaccustomed  brow  remarked  that  it 
was  a  "h —  of  a  ways."  Bon  Mots  were  plenty  at  the  re- 
union, although  most  of  them  probably  escaped  my  notice, 
but  on  the  morning  after  Harry  Wason  was  out  his  wife 
pulled  a  good  one  when  she  said  she  did  not  hate  him,  she 
only  pitied  him.  He  got  to  the  christening  the  next  day  all 
right,  however,  when  Lena's  doubtful  child  was  named, 
being  called  Leon  or  Leone  or  Leong,  variously  pronounced 
according  to  gender,  that  being  not  known  for  sure,  and 
so  sort  of  slid  over  or  elided  as  it  were,  and  not  guaranteed. 

As  for  the  lecture  on  the  early  archeology  of  Hanover 
I  cannot  say,  as  the  complete  notes  are  not  available,  but 
can  doubtless  give  snatches  here  and  there.  It  is  regret- 
table that  the  Professor  was  not  more  generally  introduced 
around  Hanover  as  there  were  many  who  did  not  even  get 
his  name.  He  is  Professor  Kilgallon.  His  lecture  he  is 
now  amplifying  and  enlarging  and  will  have  it  in  shape 
for  some  later  date  provided  the  grim  reaper  does  not  pick 
off  the  Professor  in  the  meantime.  Till  then  therefore, 
believe  me, 

Yours  to  command, 
Rob't  P.  Johnston   '99. 


193 


Henniker,  December  6,  1919. 

Dear  Kenneth: — 

I  had  intended  to  write  you  long  ago,  but  I  was  not 
very  well  awhile  in  the  fall  and  was  busy  all  the  time  and 
just  didn't  get  around  to  write.  I  have  no  news  of  '99 
men.  I  have  tried  to  find  Bob  Johnston  when  I  have  been 
in  Concord,  but  so  far  have  not  found  him  at  the  office. 
Montie  Fuller  wrote  me  twice  last  winter  which  was  doing 
darned  well  for  Montie.  I  know  a  few  boys  who  are  at 
Dartmouth  now  and  had  the  pleasure  of  talking  over  the 
football  games  with  Cogswell  who  was  end  rush  this  year, 
not  long  ago. 

I  was  sorry  I  could  not  be  in  Hanover  last  June,  but  I 
could  not  get  away.  Do  you  know  if  Asakawa  is  still  in 
Japan?  I'd  like  to  know.  By  the  way,  Hale  Dearborn's 
younger  brother  Edward  died  a  few  days  ago.  He  was  a 
practising  physician  at  Antrim  and  was  liked  very  much. 
I  wish  I  had  more  news  for  you,  but  I  don't  hear  much 
about  the  fellows  except  when  the  report  comes. 

Yours  very  truly, 

Herbert  W.  Rice. 


Milford,  N.  H.,  November  3,  1919. 

Dear  Friend: — 

Your  urgent  appeal  by  hieroglyphics  has  reached  me. 
However,  I  have  little  to  chronicle  since  the  last  report 
except  that  I  have  removed  from  western  Massachusetts 
and  entered  into  practice  at  my  home  town  of  Milford, 
N.  H. 

Had  the  pleasure  of  being  in  Hanover  in  June  and 
enjoyed  the  sacred  concert  on  Sunday  evening  and  other 
notable  events. 


194 


As  George  Clark  gives  up  his  position  as  secretary  I 
think  that  we  all  appreciate  the  fine  work  he  has  done  for 
the  class. 

Yours  truly, 

H.  H.  Dearborn. 


Keene,  N.  H.,  October  21,  19 19. 
Dear  Kenneth: — 

To  say  I  had  a  grand  good  time  in  Hanover  last  June 
is  putting  it  very  mild.  Being  my  first  reunion  it  was  a 
great  pleasure  to  meet  so  many  former  classmates,  many 
of  whom  I  have  not  seen  since  leaving  college.  I  enjoyed 
every  minute  of  the  time  with  them. 

Too  much  praise  cannot  be  given  to  our  retiring  secre- 
tary, George  Clark,  whose  untiring  energy,  class  loyalty, 
and  love  for  Dartmouth,  made  this  reunion  such  a  memo- 
rable one.  He  is  a  right  good  fellow  and  one  of  Dart- 
mouth's best. 

The  Class  of  '99  has  a  worthy  successor  in  you  as  our 
new  secretary.  Allow  me  to  extend  my  congratulations. 

Having  so  many  pleasant  memories  of  my  first  reunion 
I  am  longing  for  the  time  to  come  for  the  next. 

Best  wishes  for  you  and  your  family. 

Very  truly  yours, 

Chas.  E.  Adams. 


West  Swanzey,  N.  H.,  September  10,  1919. 
My  dear  "K":— 

We,  Mrs.,  Faith  and  I,  so  thoroughly  enjoyed  the 
"reune"  that  I  feel  like  writing  but  I  have  nothing  particular 
to  say. 


195 


The  best  things  to  me,  besides  the  personal  touch  with 
the  fellows,  were  the  show  so  ably  put  on  Sunday  evening 
and  the  tea  at  '94  headquarters  with  that  class.  The  show 
not  only  pleased  and  entertained  us,  but  was  the  "hit"  with 
everyone  else,  as  we  were  repeatedly  told  by  everyone  who 
saw  it. 

The  splendid  comradery  of  the  whole  class  and  families 
and  the  cooperation  of  the  ladies  in  everything  was  delight- 
ful. 

Charlie  Adams  has  just  been  elected  President  of  the 
Cheshire  County  Dartmouth  Association.  We  held  an 
outing  last  Saturday  at  a  lake  in  Munsonville,  outside  Keene. 
I  was  unable  to  attend,  but  a  very  good  time  is  reported. 
Sturtevant  is  the  only  other  'gger  in  this  County  but  he  and 
Adams  are  both  active  in  all  that  pertains  to  the  Dart- 
mouth interests. 

Faith,  my  daughter,  made  some  very  nice  friendships 
at  the  reunion  and  said  today  she  thought  those  reunions 
were  just  the  right  tb'' ng. 

"K,"  I  appreciate  your  masterly  letter  and  am  sure 
it  will  bring  out  some  good  copy.  I  do  not  consider  this 
for  inclusion  and  am  sorry  I  have  not  something  more  tan- 
gible. 

Clark  endeared  himself  to  us  all  by  his  untiring  labor 
and  the  personal  touch  his  letters  and  calls  gave.  He  always 
visited  all  of  us  he  could  and  I  am  sure  there  is  nothing 
better  than  a  visit  to  any  of  us. 

Joe  Gannon  taught  school  in  East  Swanzey  during  our 
College  course.  He  is  a  demi-god  in  that  locality.  The 
District  where  he  taught  now  has  an  annual  reunion  at 
the  school  house  and  so  far  at  each  reunion  Joe  has  been 
the  Guest  of  Honor  and  Distinction  and  makes  from  one 
to  three  speeches  on  each  occasion.  He  attended  one  held 
August  23  this  year. 

Trusting  you  and  family  are  well,  I  remain, 

Hoppy. 


196 


Hanover,  N.  H.,  November  4,  1919. 
My  dear  "K":— 

The  class — most  of  it — has  been  in  Hanover  during 
the  last  few  months — it  knows  present  conditions  and  pre- 
sent needs,  and  even  if  it  did  not  the  class  report  is  not 
the  place  to  emphasize  them.  So  I  will  not  write  a  regular 
letter  now.  Wait  until  the  Round-up  which  I  shall  make  a 
desperate  effort  to  attend  this  year,  and  then  if  you  want 
me  to  talk  to  the  bunch  I  will. 

You  can  tell  the  crowd  that  I  am  spending  all  my  spare 
time  on  two  widely  remote  interests :  first,  along  with  Joe 
Gannon,  looking  out  for  Dartmouth  athletic  interests,  es- 
pecially football ;  second,  talking  to  New  Hampshire  women 
about  the  problems  of  citizenship,  which  they  will  shortly 
have  to  tackle. 

Yours  faithfully, 

Jim. 


To  get  what  Hanover  thinks  of  Jim  read  last  June's 
"Bema,"  "A  Causerie  on  Congress"  by  Gordon  P.  Mer- 
riam,  and  the  writer's  appreciative  remarks  on  "Our  own 
Jim  Richardson's"  suggestions  as  to  "Creating  some  per- 
manent, non-partisan,  outside  commission  to  which  all  local 
bills  should  be  referred  for  investigation  and  report," 
and  other  similar  progressive  suggestions.  The  writer 
concludes :  "These  are  some  of  Jim's  ideas  for  better  legis- 
lation. Just  how  many  more  he  has  stored  up  in  the  back  of 
his  head  is  hard  to  say,  but  the  chances  are  that  these 
will  hold  us  for  a  while." 

Vermont 

Just  a  step  across  the  river  from  Hanover  and  here  is 
Clarence  Joy  of  White  River,  with  Sam  Smith's  home  down 

197 


the  Connecticut  a  bit  at  Windsor,  and  Warren  Kendall's 
old  home  up  the  river  at  Pompanoosuc.  Up  the  river  still 
we  follow  the  '99  ripple  to  Wells  River,  where  Herbert 
Lyster's  creamery  is,  on  to  Passumpsic,  where  Tedo  Chase 
makes  leather  board,  and  so  to  St.  Johnsbury  where  Tedo 
lives  and  weighs  his  children  on  Franko's  infallible  scales. 

With  a  jump  across  to  Dr.  Ed  Hyatt's  office  in  St. 
Albans  in  the  northwest  corner  of  the  state,  we  run  back 
down  through  the  middle  past  Tom  Cogswell's  headquarters 
at  Plainfield  with  the  Nellie  Gill  Players,  with  whom  Tom 
has  made  a  particular  hit  in  ''The  Senator's  Daughter"  as 
Senator  Socrates  Clay ;  past  Cush's  old  home  in  Randolph 
where  John  DuBois  keeps  the  '99  torch  alight,  and  so  to 
Arthur  Wiggins's  flourishing  family  and  schools  in  South 
Londonderry. 

But  some  of  the  boys  want  to  speak  for  themselves. 


White  River  Junction,  Vt./  September  23,  1919. 
Dear  K:— 

Tonight  at  8  145  P.  M.  I  have  sat  down  with  my  family 
for  the  first  time  since  school  closed  in  June.  Mrs.  J.  at 
once  reminded  me  that  I  ought  to  write  you.  She  is  a 
great  '99er  and  has  been  anxious  that  I  should  get  this  off. 

We  certainly  had  a  great  time  at  Hanover  in  June. 
Nothing  anything  like  it.  I  cannot  expatiate  upon  it  for 
those  who  were  not  there.  We  certainly  had  a  fine  time 
talking  over  old  times  and  learning  how  the  world  had 
used  the  other  fellow. 

I  want  to  add  my  word  of  appreciation  for  the  work 
George  Clark  has  done  for  '99.  He  is  a  good  old  sport 
and  has  won  his  way  into  the  hearts  of  every  '99  man.  The 
ladies  think  the  world  of  him  and  why  in  thunder  some  one 
of  them  doesn't  capture  him  is  beyond  me. 

Well,  K,  you  certainly  are  "it"  and  here  is  to  your 

198 


good  luck.  We  shall  enjoy  hearing  from  each  other  through 
you.  Ninety-nine  does  things  the  right  way  and  will  back 
you  in  all  your  endeavors. 

You  will  doubtless  hear  from  Pauline  who  enjoyed 
every  minute  of  the  time  at  Hanover.  I  think  she  thinks 
a  lot  more  of  her  father  since  she  has  learned  what  kind  of 
company  he  used  to  keep. 

Cordially  and  sincerely  yours, 

Clarence  L.  Joy. 


Passumpsic,  Vt.,  November  n,  1919. 
Dear  Kenneth: — 

Am  I  a  bit  late  in  giving  you  some  reply  to  those  en- 
treating postals  ?    They  certainly  deserve  some  sort  of  reply. 

Now  in  June  I  had  to  take  the  trip  to  Hanover  all 
alone  for  certain  good  and  sufficient  reasons.  Now  as  a 
partial  recompense  we  have  a  new  daughter,  born  Sep- 
tember 27th,  by  name  "Elizabeth" — no  middle  name  as  yet. 
That  makes  us  three  now,  somewhat  behind  some  of  the 
boys,  isn't  it?  I  guess  there  is  little  hopes  of  catching  up 
but  then  on  the  other  hand  we  are  hardly  committing  race 
suicide  either. 

Just  a  word  in  regard  to  last  June.  I  wish  to  express 
my  appreciation  of  everything  that  happened  there,  it  was 
certainly  one  fine  reunion.  I  had  the  group  picture  out  just 
a  couple  of  days  ago  showing  it  off  and  admiring  it.  But 
I  expect  the  next  to  be  just  as  good  with  you  at  the  helm, 
Kenneth. 

I  have  very  little  news  to  give  you.  I  still  conduct 
the  same  old  business,  living  in  St.  Johnsbury — and  a  good 
place  to  abide  in  it  is — going  back  and  forth  to  Passumpsic 
— three  miles  below — every  day.  Usually  find  a  little  bit 
more  than  enough  to  do,  too,  to  take  up  the  time.  The 
only  one  of  the  boys  I  see  around  these  diggings  is  Harold 

199 


French.  I  certainly  do  pity  him  since  prohibition  went 
into  effect,  he  has  lost  some  weight  since  then.  But  per- 
haps that's  just  a  coincidence. 

If  you  are  ever  up  this  way  I'll  certainly  expect  to  have 
you  drop  in,  Kenneth.  Mrs.  Chase  and  I  and  the  kids  will 
try  to  make  it  pleasant  and  if  it  is  in  the  summer  we  will 
take  you  to  our  camp,  and  if  you  don't  enjoy  it  there, 
there  is  no  hope  for  you. 

Most  sincerely  yours, 

Tedo. 


Bethel,  Vt.,  September  i,  1919. 
Dear  Beal: — 

My  visit  to  Dartmouth  left  me  utterly  bewildered.  It 
seems  like  a  dream,  or  one  of  the  fairy  plays  we  see  now 
and  then — the  changes  during  the  twenty  odd  years  since 
I  was  there  are  wonderful — but  there  are  still  enough  of 
the  old  landmarks  left  to  give  me  the  feeling  of  my  fresh- 
man days. 

The  greatest  thing  I  saw  at  Dartmouth  was  the  class 
spirit  of  '99!  Why,  I  was  only  a  freshman  when  I  left, 
but  you  fellows  welcomed  me  with  as  much  hearty  en- 
thusiasm as  you  did  the  class  leaders.  I  think  the  thing  I 
shall  always  remember,  and  which  impressed  me  the  most, 
was  that  auto  load  of  boys  coming  down  to  the  Junction 
at  three  o'clock  Sunday  morning  just  to  get  me — and,  as 
I  heard  you  fellows  sing  the  old  Dartmouth  songs  on  the 
way  up  to  Hanover,  I'll  admit  I  realized  what  a  wonderful 
class  spirit  '99  has,  and  tears  stood  close  to  the  surface.  I 
didn't  know  any  of  the  fellows  well  enough  to  know  their 
personal  characteristics,  but  could  remember  now  and  then 
some  of  the  happenings  of  the  first  year.  The  funniest 
thing  I  heard  was  Bob  Johnston's  monologue — good  enough 
for  any  big  circuit. 


200 


Had  the  trip  cost  me  ten  times  as  much  I  should  have 
never  regretted  it— it  taught  me  that,  after  all,  once  a  mem- 
ber of  '99  always  a  member. 

George  Clark  deserves  all  the  credit  in  the  world  for 
his  work  as  secretary  of  '99 — he  will  be  hard  to  equal,  but 
I  feel  certain  you  will  prove  that  old  Dartmouth  is  not  a 
one  man  college,  and  that  the  class  knew  its  business  in 
picking  you  as  its  new  secretary. 

Wishing  you  all  the  very  best  of  good  luck  and  good 
health,  I  am 

Very  truly, 
Thomas  Cogswell. 
Permanent  address, 
Plainfield,  Vt. 


Randolph,  Vtv  August  3,  1919. 
Brother  Beal: — 

Not  much  to  say  about  myself,  but  am  sorry  for  sev- 
eral reasons  that  I  could  not  see  my  way  clear  to  attend 
Reunion  last  June. 

George  Clark  certainly  rilled  the  place  of  secretary  O. 
K.  and  I  think  the  members  of  the  "good  old  Class  of  '99" 
owe  him  not  only  their  heartfelt  thanks  but  their  respect. 
He  has  always  made  you  feel  "right  at  home." 

The  next  five  years  will  bring  many  changes  to  us  all, 
and  I  am  going  to  grow  younger  and  endeavor  to  be  at  the 
next  Reunion. 

Sincerely  yours, 
John  H.  DuBois. 
P.  S.    Cush  says  Buck  Burns  is  a  fine  waiter. 


201 


Massachusetts 

And  so  from  the  south  of  Vermont  we  cross  to  the 
upper  lefthand  corner  of  Massachusetts  to  step  in  for  a 
chat  with  Ralph  Payne  at  his  Greenfield  drug  store.  South- 
west, Montie  labors  in  New  Marlboro,  while  straight  south 
is  Springfield,  where  Herbert  Bailey  raises  houses  though 
rents  rise  too;  where  Maurice  Dickey  gives  way  to  his 
co-worker  on  the  "Springfield  Union,"  Sherman  '94,  for 
the  privilege  of  attending  a  Dartmouth  Class  Reunion,  but 
finds  some  compensation  in  being  promoted  from  night 
editor  to  day  editor;  and  where  Elmer  jBarstow  keeps 
the  Burrows  Grammar  School  on  the  upward  grade.         . 

Eastward  we  head  for  Worcester.  We  look  for  Cav, 
but  he  is  mostly  on  the  Boston  College  athletic  field,  craftily 
and  incessantly  coaching  his  boys  until  they  beat  the  Yale 
bulldog  5  to  3  and  humble  their  great  rival,  Holy  Cross. 
Incidentally  he  publishes  a  masterly  book  on  "Inside  Foot- 
ball," and  gives  the  other  candidates  for  the  leadership  of 
the  state  branch  of  the  American  Legion  a  close  run. 
Spade  Heywood  is  as  hard  at  work  as  ever,  both  in  business 
and  in  leisure  hours,  drafting,  reading,  exercising  in  the 
Gym,  or  endeavoring  to  persuade  Fred  Walker  to  drop 
some  of  his  engrossing  legal  cares  and  travel  to  the  Ses- 
qui-Centennial.  Spade  says  the  steel  strike  was  his  own 
excuse  for  not  being  in  Hanover  again  in  October. 

Three  in  Worcester  and  three  near  Worcester.  Three 
times  three  is  9  again.  There's  Hobe  northwest  in  Gardner 
in  his  finely  furnished  legal  office,  to  the  southwest  is  Eddie 
Skinner  in  Southbridge,  and  southeast  is  Ralph  Hawkes. 
You'll  hear  more  from  him  at  the  Sesqui-Centennial. 

The  Worcester  Air  Line  to  Boston  will  carry  you  within 
a  short  walking  distance  of  Herb  Rogers  in  Newton  Upper 
Falls,  though  if  you'd  gone  by  on  Columbus  Day  you'd 
have  missed  him  because  he  and  his  family  were  up  at  the 
old  home  in  Tilton.  Over  the  other  side  of  the  Newton 
circuit  on  the  B.  &  A.  Pitt  keeps  the  boulevards  near  New- 
tonville  packed  down  by  speedy  motoring,  and  as  President 

202 


of  the  Middlesex  Street  Railway  Company  tries  to  con- 
vince the  public  that  the  day  of  the  trolley  is  not  yet  gone. 
In  Allston  we  find  Joe  Hobbs  just  back  from  a  day  in  the 
Boys'  Latin  School.  But  before  we  go  into  Boston  our- 
selves, we  will  make  a  flying  series  of  calls  down  the  line 
from  northeastern  Massachusetts  on  Bill  Currier  in  Ames- 
bury,  Sully  in  Lawrence,  Ed  Allen  in  Arlington,  Arthur 
Irving  in  Winchester — and  the  Melrose  quartette  of  Bill 
Atwood,  K.  Beal,  Walt  Eastman  and  George  Huckins.  It's 
a  crowded  section.  Though  Bill  Eaton  has  left  Medford  for 
New  York  for  a  time,  Judge  N.  P.  is  still  in  Everett  when 
he's  not  holding  court  sessions  elsewhere,  and  you  can't 
get  past  Somerville  without  at  least  looking  in  at  Sleep 
and  Paul  Osgood  and  George  Evans. 

At  last  as  you  strike  out  at  a  brisk  gait  across  Boston 
proper  in  the  early  morning  you  miss  Tim  Lynch  at.  his 
familiar  corner  on  Irvington  Street,  waiting  for  the  South 
Boston  car  to  take  him  to  the  Bigelow  Grammar  School. 
You  see  you  had  forgotten  that  he  married  Miss  [Bernadette 
M.  White  of  Charlestown  last  July  15th,  gave  his  bride 
an  auto,  and  promptly  started  off  in  it  on  a  wedding  trip 
to  the  Middle  West  and  back.  Of  course  George  Clark 
came  down  from  Plymouth  to  be  best  man>  and  of  course 
when  they  came  back  they  side-tripped  to  Plymouth  as 
explained  elsewhere,  and  of  course  finally  when  school 
opened  they  moved  out  to  join  the  Dorchester  colony. 

So  now  the  Dorchester  contingent  numbers  five:  Win 
Adams,  Jim  Barney,  Donnie,  Everett  Hardwick,  and  Tim. 

Win,  by  the  way,  had  a  specially  trying  experience  on 
Wednesday  morning,  November  19th,  when  he  was  stopped 
on  his  way  to  work  by  a  telegram  saying  that  his  old  home 
at  Limerick,  Maine,  had  just  burned  down.  It  was  a  fine 
century-old  place,  seventy-five  years  in  the  family.  It  was 
as  much  as  ever  that  his  mother  and  aged  uncle  and  aunt 
escaped  when  a  defective  chimney  started  the  trouble. 
Win's  mother  will  be  with  him  for  a  while. 


203 


But  we  must  leave  the  '99  hive  of  Boston  proper, 
look  in  at  Bob  Croker  in  East  Weymouth,  say  "Halloo" 
to  Galush  as  he  boards  the  Sharon  train  for  the  city,  and 
at  New  Bedford  say  "Good-by"  to  Mott  Sargent  and  to 
the  old  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts. 

But  the  postman  has  left  some  Massachusetts  mail 
from  west  to  east,  and  here  it  is : 


New  Marlboro,  Mass.,  August  25,   1919. 
Dear  Kenneth: — 

You  ask  for  my  talk  in  Chapel  at  our  reunion.  I 
shrink  from  writing  it  because  it,  apart  from  the 
atmosphere  of  good  fellowship  and  religious  flavor  of  that 
hour,  may  seem  somewhat  insipid,  but  I  give  it  to  you. 
Also  please  remember  that  a  skeleton  with  no  flesh  and 
blood  is  very  unsatisfactory.  Not  one  of  you  can  know 
what  that  reunion  meant  to  me.  It  gave  me  such  a  new 
faith  in  men;  to  see  how  we  have  all  grown  in  knowledge 
and  grace.  Perhaps  I  may  venture  to  tell  you  that  I  feel 
that  my  pastorate  has  enlarged  and  it  now  embraces  the 
class  of  '99.  If  this  seems  to  you  an  unworthy  assump- 
tion on  my  part  please  forget  it.  But  as  a  lowly  shepherd 
of  souls  let  me  feel  the  incentive  there  comes  to  me  in 
embracing  you,  everyone  in  my  prayers. 

I  presume  that  I  have  written  enough  of  this  kind 
but  it  is  my  life  and  my  joy. 

To  George  Clark,  to  all  you  men  of  '99,  your  wives 
and  children,  and  you,  Kenneth,  I  would  send  my  best 
wishes. 

Yours, 
M.  J.  B.  Fuller. 


204 


Round  Pond,  Maine,  August  25,  1919. 
Dear  Kenneth:—- 

Well,  we  were  glad  to  receive  your  letter  and  to  see 
the  enthusiasm  and  devotion  that  you  are  putting  into  your 
new  task  as  Secretary  of  the  Class  of  '99.  We  school 
men  are  working  so  hard  to  teach  our  classes  and  inci- 
dentally nowadays  to  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door  and 
the  fringe  from  the  bottom  of  our  trousers,  and  yet  here 
are  you,  Kenneth,  "it"  as  you  put  it  in  the  '99  Secretarial 
game  of  tag,  and  going  right  to  it  with  a  call  that  all  must 
heed. 

We  thank  you,  Kenneth,  for  your  willing  spirit  in 
taking  the  Secretary's  mantle.  The  boys  of  '99  will  back 
you  up.  Though  it  will  mean  much  work  and  added  care, 
in  the  long  run  it  will  bring  a  great  deal  of  satisfaction. 
But  back  in  my  day,  the  secretary  served  the  good  old  class 
of  '99  for  a  decade,  and  here  are  Donny  and  George  both 
doing  so  much  in  five  short  years  that  we  are  already 
allowing  them  to  write  an  "ex"  before  their  names.  They 
were  both  great  secretaries,  and  we  congratulate  you  on 
following  them. 

Surely  we  had  a  wonderful  time  at  the  reunion,  and 
we  must  thank  our  committee  for  their  splendid  work  in 
planning  it  all,  and  putting  it  across  in  such  fine  shape. 
The  B's  along  that  famous  row,  "Beal,  Barney,  Barstow, 
Benezet"  with  their  wives  were  all  present.  And  some 
wives !  But  other  B's  were  missing  whom  we  wanted  to 
see.  As  for  the  A's  all  were  there  except  E.  A.  Abbott, 
Asakawa,  Ash  and  Atwood,  every  one  prevented  by  great 
distance  and  the  demands  of  the  hour.  Fod  described 
Bill  Atwood  at  the  Christmas  season  as  "busy  playing 
Santa  Claus  for  the  French  youngsters  near  his  camp." 
By  this  time  Mrs.  Bill  will  be  looking  for  his  return,  as 
we  all  are.  (Since  writing  this  I  have  today  received  a 
fine  letter  from  Bill.  He  is  back  here  and  in  Maine  and 
returns  to  ,Boston  September  2  to  see  if  he  has  any  clients 
left!) 


205 


But  of  course  I  can't  go  down  through  the  alphabet, 
and  shall  break  off  with  the  A's  and  B's.     Frank  Surrey 

would  have  been  with  us  at  the  reunion  had  it  occurred  a 

* 

week  earlier  or  a  week  later,  but  for  compelling  reasons 
had  to  be  on  the  job  at  his  school  at  just  that  time.  I  had 
a  card  from  him  recently  from  the  Grand  Canyon,  Arizona. 
What  an  interesting  and  important  work  Peddy  is  doing. 
His  talk  at  the  dinner  was  one  of  the  very  best.  We  are 
proud  of  his  achievement,  as  of  that  of  Warren  Kendall, 
Pearl,  and  many  others  of  our  class. 

I  looked  in  to  see  George  Clark  on  a  July  morning, 
but  did  not  find  him  in  his  office  that  day.  We  all  think 
of  George  as  our  personal  friend.  Certainly  he  has  glori- 
fied the  office  of  Secretary.  With  a  fine  courtesy  of  the 
heart  that  is  akin  to  love,  George  has  shown  the  deepest 
friendship  to  every  man  in  the  class,  and  we  of  '99  owe 
him  a  debt  of  gratitude  that  must  forever  remain  unpaid. 

As  for  my  family,  we  have  again  had  the  privilege 
of  a  delightful  rest  and  recreation  period  this  summer,  at 
quiet  Round  Pond,  here  by  the  "big  sea  water,"  and  are 
returning  to  city  life  much  refreshed  for  the  year's  work. 
I  was  sorry  to  miss  a  call  from  Woodman  in  Springfield 
at  the  very  end  of  June.  Later  I  learned  in  a  brief  chat 
with  Donny  that  Woodman  goes  to  a  new  work  in  the 
West  in  September.    You  will  have  a  record  of  that. 

We  shall  all  await  with  the  keenest  interest  the  next 
report,  and  we  wish  you  joy  and  success  in  its  prepara- 
tion. 

As  ever,  sincerely, 
Elmer  W.  Barstow. 


10  Oread  St.,  Worcester,  Mass  ,  August  18,  1919. 
Friend  Beat: — 

I  suppose  there  is  no  way  more  satisfactory  to  you  for 
us  to  show  our  sympathy  in  your  new  task,  than  by  prompt 


206 


reply  to  your  appeal  for  letters, — even  though  they  be  un- 
printable. I  prepared  an  epistle  as  soon  as  I  got  your  cir- 
cular, August  first,  but  after  some  reflection  decided  to  mo- 
dify its  tone,  hence  this  delay.  Your  call  upon  those  who  at- 
tended the  Vicennial  is  easy,  compared  to  some  of  the  whole- 
sale confessions  demanded  in  the  past,  and  should  meet 
with  abundant  response. 

This  Reunion  had  special  significance  to  me  as  it  was 
my  first  visit  to  Hanover  since  I  left  it  in  August,  1900,  and 
gave  me  a  most  interesting  mental  experience,  but  that 
does  not  mean  it  would  be  interesting  to  others. 

Your  timely  reminder  that  this  is  a  fitting  place  to  ex- 
press our  sentiments  towards  George  Clark,  moves  me  to 
testify  that  it  was  largely  his  influence  in  the  way  your  letter 
indicates,  that  caused  me  to  go  to  Hanover.  I  felt  that  the 
presence  of  his  classmates  would  gratify  him  more  than  any- 
thing else,  and  would  be  evidence  that  his  efforts  are  ap- 
preciated. 

But  there  is  one  fallacy  in  the  appeals  to  attend  re- 
unions, which  I  cannot  refrain  from  exposing  now  that  I  caa 
speak  from  experience.  I  did  not  expect  to  feel  any  younger, 
but  quite  the  reverse,  by  seeing  the  gray  hairs,  or  bald  heads, 
and  the  big  tummies  of  those  whom  I  remembered  as  boys 
twenty  years  ago.  My  expectations  were  correct.  Those 
who  come  within  the  description  as  stated,  may  find  re- 
unions a  fountain  of  youth,  but  those  who  meet  mostly  a 
younger  generation  and  thus  forget  their  own  age,  cannot 
be  rejuvenated  by  having  their  years  vividly  shown  to  them 
by  classmates.  The  chief  impression  which  I  got  from  the 
Vicennial  was  that  the  Class  of  Ninety-nine  has  reached 
middle  age  and  shows  it.  That  the  strenuous  years  have 
brought  prosperity  also,  was  evident,  but. I  would  have  been 
equally  well  pleased  to  see  less  prosperity  and  more  health. 
It  seems  to  me  that  the  list  of  those  we  recall  at  memorial 
services  is  far  too  long,  and  I  got  little  satisfaction  from  the 
statement  of  Ninety-nine's  leading  scientist,  that  our  aver- 


207 


age  is  bound  to  be  the  same  when  the  years  have  passed. 
Nor  do  I  think  it  will  be  much  satisfaction  to  the  last  few 
survivors,  who  presumably  will  live  to  extreme  old  age,  to 
know  that  they  are  thereby  maintaining  the  average,  and 
placing  the  Class  in  the  right  relation  to  the  laws  of  mor- 
tality. 

For  my  own  affairs  there  is  nothing  to  be  added  to  the 
records  of  which  you  have  become  the  custodian.  To  the 
casual  observer  I  am  living  as  I  have  lived  the  past  four 
years.  My  days  are  occupied  with  the  drawings  and  tech- 
nical records  of  a  small  part  of  the  American  Steel  &  Wire 
Company.  The  chief  recreation  of  my  evenings  is  found 
in  the  Gymnasium  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A. 

It  has  just  occurred  to  me  that  I  am  writing  to  an  ex- 
pert in  the  English  language,  and  therefore  to  ease  your  suf- 
ferings as  much  as  possible  I  will  end  this  effusion  speedily, 
giving  you  full  permission  to  censor  or  obliterate,  according 
to  the  plan  you  have  doubtless  outlined  for  the  spirit  of  the 
forthcoming  report.  If  you  use  it,  I  would  bespeak  your 
expert  attention  to  make  the  language  of  this  letter  har- 
monize with  the  high  literary  standard  which  we  will  now 
expect  in  the  Class  reports. 

I  was  surprised  to  receive  a  letter  from  Bill  Atwood 
the  other  day,  dated  at  Hampden  Highlands,  Maine.  He  has 
been  back  about  a  month,  but  I  presume  you  will  hear  from 
him  more  directly. 

With  best  regards  to  you  and  yours, 

Very  sincerely, 

A.  L.  Heywood. 


Gardner,  Mass.,  October  29,  1919. 
Dear  Kenneth: — 

The  thing  about  the  reunion  which  I  shall  remember  the 
longest  was  the  sight  of  the  Parkhurst  Professor  of  Law 


208 


soundly  sleeping  on  a  couch  on  the  stage  in  Robinson  Hall 
at  7.30  a.  m.  on  Sunday  morning,  waiting  for  his  fellow 
actors  to  come  around  for  a  much  needed  rehearsal  of  "our 
show."  Even  in  slumber,  he  was  dignified.  One  could  tell 
by  looking  at  him  that  he  was  a  professor,  or  something. 

Reaction?  I  had  no  reaction.  All  I  remember  of  the 
reunion  was  acting  and  acting.  There  was  plenty  of  the 
one,  and  too  much  of  the  other.  We  did  have  a  great  visit, 
didn't  we?  From  the  tea  on  Mrs.  Richardson's  lawn  to  the 
academic  procession  of  Wednesday  morning,  it  was  a  real 
visit  to  the  "Shrine  of  Perpetual  Youth." 

I  pity  the  poor  souls  who  missed  such  events  as  the 
Saturday  night  caucus  in  "Long  Jim's"  cement  replica  of 
the  Copley  Square  dungeon,  the  christening  of  "Buck 
Burns'  "  loving  cup  with  all  due  solemnity  in  Hubbard  Hall, 
the  initiation  of  Irving  Cobb  into  Ro  Kappa  Tau  in  the  vale, 
of  Tempe,  "Cav's"  impromptu  concert  in  Massachusetts 
Hall,  the  Tuesday  night  gathering  on  Rollins  Chapel  steps 
where  "Peddy"  Miller,  "Dr."  Pearl,  "Spade"  Heywood, 
"Franco"  French,  Charlie  Donahue  and  retinue  held  a  two 
hour  session  in  which  wisdom  and  wit  flashed  like  sparks 
from  an  anvil. 

And  now  I  am  back  in  Gardner,  practising  law,  and 
holding  down  the  usual  jobs  of  a  country  squire.  No  change 
in  outward  things,  but  changed  inwardly  by  the  inspiration 
and  the  delights  of  that  wonderful  Twentieth  Reunion. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Hobe. 


16  Woodland  St.,  Arlington,  Mass.,  November  23,  1919 
Dear  Kenneth : — 

That  reunion  in  June  was  something  grand.  Words 
fail  to  express  my  feelings  as  I  met  the  boys,  one  after  an- 
other, and  the  subsequent  entertainment  provided  by  the 

209 


committee.  Mrs.  Allen  and  I  especially  appreciated  the 
efforts  of  the  '99ers  living  in  Hanover.  How  could  one 
forget  that  little  party  at  Jim  Richardson's?  Both  Mrs. 
Richardson  and  Jim  seemed  so  happy  in  entertaining  us. 
Then  there  was  Dave  Storrs  who  was  right  on  the  job. 

I  was  very  sorry  for  those  who  were  not  able  to  be 
there.     Let's  hope  that  they  will  never  miss  another. 

We  wish  to  extend  our  thanks  to  George  Clark  for  the 
part  that  he  took  towards  our  entertainment. 

Some  of  the  boys  have  changed  more  than  others,  but 
on  the  whole  the  change  seemed  less  than  one  would  expect 
in  twenty  years. 

Since  the  last  report  I  have  associated  myself  with  The 
Daggett  Chocolate  Company,  35  Lewis  Wharf,  Boston.  We 
employ  about  two  hundred  and  fifty,  and  of  course  manu- 
facture candy  as  well  as  soda  fountain  supplies. 

Most  sincerely, 

Edwin  L.  Allen. 


Hampden  Highlands,  Maine,  August  5,  1919. 
My  dear  Kenneth: — 

I  had  no  sooner  received  George's  account  of  the  re- 
union and  the  information  that  you  had  been  elected  his 
successor  as  Class  Secretary  than  along  comes  your  nicely 
mimeographed  letter  of  July  28  in  a  Class  Secretary's  best 
style,  which  shows  that  for  being  "Johnny-on-the-Spot" 
you  may  yet  have  something  on  your  early  rising  and  tireless 
antecedents  in  office. 

You  will  note  by  the  above  heading  that  I  am  sojourning 
in  the  land  of  my  ancestors.  I  landed  at  New  York  July 
18,  and  as  our  trip  over  in  the  Northern  Pacific  seemed  to 
be  disconcerting  to  my  system  I  took  some  days  off  to  re- 
cuperate, and  then  July  30,  boarded  the  Eastern  S.  S.  Com- 
pany's Camden  with  Helen  and  Martha  for  another  sea 
trip  but  a  far  more  delightful  one  to  me. 

210 


I  expect  to  be  here  at  the  old  farm  until  after  Labor 
Day,  puttering  around  the  place,  cutting  dead  wood  out  of 
the  orchard  and  repairing  the  ravages  of  the  elements 
about  the  buildings  since  I  was  here  two  years  ago,  between 
times  going  berrying  and  fishing  with  my  young  nephew, 
Harvey  Hutchinson,  or  taking  the  whole  family  for  a  swim 
in  the  Penobscot.  My  sister  is  here  with  her  three  children 
and  these,  with  the  help  of  their  Airdale  pup  and  of  our 
own  young  daughter,  keep  things  moving  about  the  old  house 
most  of  the  time. 

It  was  a  keen  disappointment  to  me  to  have  to.  miss  the 
reunion.  You  know  that,  but  "Fod"  Martin  who  was  sta- 
tioned near  me  at  St.  Nazaire  was  persuaded  to  accompany 
me  to  the  Dartmouth  dinner  at  Paris  June  14  and  we  did  our 
best  with  the  limited  facilities  of  the  town  to  imitate  a  large 
'99  reunion. 

I  got  autographs  of  the  forty  present  on  a  menu  card 
for  G.  Clark's  archives  and  Fod  and  I  together  sent  a  cable 
to  the  class.  Dr.  Lines  '84  presided,  and  "Eric"  and  Dr. 
Fred  Lord  '98  were  head  table  orators.  When  the  toast- 
master  finally  reached  me  after  the  picking  was  getting  poor 
he  asked  me  to  tell  the  assembled  brethren  "something 
about  the  men  of  my  time,"  apparently  figuring  me  an  old 
timer  on  account  of  the  gray  hairs  I  got  while  waiting  and 
working  for  a  passport  to  France.  I  got  up  and  announced 
that  "I  belonged  to  the  Class  of  '99  which  not  only  had  a 
100%  attendance  of  its  members  in  France  at  that  time  but 
was  staging  a  reunion  in  Hanover  with  some  battle  scarred 
exhibits  who  had  done  their  job  in  France  and  gone  back 
to  be  present  at  the  greatest  show  on  earth,"  and  other 
modest  words  about  our  great  and  near  great.  Aside  from 
those  I  mentioned  Dascomb  a  '92  man  was  the  only  man 
present  of  before  our  time.  To  all  the  others  '99  needed  no 
introduction  and  when  I  pronounced  the  magic  numeral 
I  fancied  the  mushroom  captains  and  lieutenants  present 
who  probably  were  thinking  about  Cav  looked  upon  me  as 
a  person  to  be  accorded  great  respect. 

211 


I  suppose  you  would  like  for  me  to  write  something 
about  my  experiences  in  the  A.  E.  F.  There  is  hardly  space 
in  a  letter  like  this  to  go  into  any  detail.  It  was  a  wonderful 
experience  that  I  would  not  have  missed  for  a  great  deal. 
It  was  first  of  all  an  opportunity  to  render  service  to  our 
boys  and  whatever  you  did  for  them,  they  appreciated  it  so 
much,  imperfect  though  your  efforts  might  be.  I  was  as- 
signed as  athletic  director  to  two  camps  of  engineers,  about 
4000  men,  railroad  men  engaged  in  carrying  supplies  and 
troops  between  St.  Nazaire  and  the  front  area,  and  construc- 
tion engineers  who  built  a  big  dock  in  the  Loire  River  back 
of  our  camp  in  record  time.  I  was  with  these  outfits  from 
the  time  I  got  to  France  until  the  camps  began  breaking  up 
about  July  1.  Our  location  was  most  unattractive,  a  verit- 
able mudhole  in  the  river  bottom,  or  mudflats  of  the  Loire, 
with  dikes  to  keep  out  the  tides.  Of  course  we  had  rain 
practically  every  day  all  winter,  too.  However,  we  kept 
boxing,  wrestling  and  basketball,  tugs-of-war,  etc.,  going  in- 
doors and  with  fine  weather  after  May  1  we  had  baseball 
enough  to  make  up  for  lost  time.  In  the  spring,  April, 
I  had  a  ten  days'  leave  and  spent  it  in  Lyon,  Marseille,  the 
Riviera,  from  Nice  to  the  Italian  border,  and  also  got  up 
into  the  Pyrenees  at  Canterets,  as  well  as  visiting  the  Roman 
mines  at  Aries  and  Nimes  and  the  ancient  walled  city  of 
Carcasonne,  Cette,  a  Mediterranean  seaport,  with  every  na- 
tionality represented  along  its  quays,  and  Toulouse,  the  uni- 
versity city  of  southern  France. 

At  other  times  I  had  opportunity  to  see  a  good  deal  of 
France  and  its  people.  Britanny,  where  I  was  located,  is  one 
of  the  most  historic  and  primitive  parts  of  France.  I  found 
many  of  the  peasants  there  who  cannot  speak  French  but 
still  use  the  ancestral  Gaelic,  and  when  I  was  at  Brest  for 
some  ten  days  waiting  sailing,  I  spent  some  time  among 
the  Breton  villages  where  newspapers  are  circulated  partly 
in  French  and  partly  in  Gaelic. 

On  trips  with  teams  I  visited  some  of  the  chateaux  of 
the  Loire  valley,  for  example  at  Augers,  the  castle  of  the 

212 


Dukes  of  Anjou.  Of  course,  I  saw  a  good  deal  of  Paris  as 
I  had  to  be  there  on  entering  and  leaving  France  for  several 
days  and  spent  a  day  at  the  Inter-allied  games,  Pershing  Sta- 
dium, near  Paris.  The  comparison  between  the  French  civ- 
ilization and  our  own  was  constantly  before  you  and  there 
were  companions  in  O.  D.  to  compare  notes  with  wherever 
you  went.  I  think  I  got  to  know  the  real  American  youth 
and  to  admire  him  in  O.  D.  as  I  never  could  in  the  U.  S.  A. 
in  a  thousand  years.  The  word  "wonderful"  is  overworked 
in  describing  the  doughboy,  but  that  is  the  only  adjective 
that  seems  to  cover  his  case  in  one  word.  I  presume  his 
trying  experiences  had  brought  out  all  that  was  in  him. 
Some  failed,  probably  many  failed  according  to  our  stand- 
ards in  America,  but  who  can  say  that  they  are  not  more 
men  at  that  than  they  would  have  been  if  never  tried.  I 
believe  the  most  of  them  are. 

I  hadn't  meant  to  write  so  long  a  letter,  but  I  have  felt 
I  owed  you  something  in  reply  to  your  kind  letter  written 
me  in  France  which,  under  stress  of  work,  I  put  off  answer- 
ing and  never  did  answer  till  now. 

Helen  wishes  to  be  remembered  kindly  to  you  and  Mrs. 
Beal  and  we  hope  to  see  something  of  you  this  winter.  I 
suppose  the  boys  are  pretty  sizable  now  and  growing  apace 

Sincerely  yours, 

"Bill"  Atwood. 


i  86  Linden  Street,  Everett,  Mass.,  November  10,  191 9. 
Dear  Kenneth : — 

I  see  I  am  making  your  job  hard  when  I  should  be 
making  it  easy.  Pardon.  But  you  are  asking  something  I 
am  unable  to  give  you — my  speech  at  the  dinner.  It  was  ex- 
temporaneous, without  previous  preparation  and  forgotten 
as  soon  as  the  dinner  was  over.  If  no  stenographer  was 
present  it  is  irretrievably  lost — however,  little  loss  at  that. 

213 


As  for  rny  own  doings  they  have  been  very  routine.  At 
the  time  of  the  reunion  I  was  finishing  my  year  with  a 
jury,  waived  sitting  in  Fitchburg,  two  days  of  which  I 
stole  in  order  to  be  with  the  boys.  My  vacation  began  at 
once,  but  was  soon  interrupted  by  four  weeks  spent  in  the 
criminal  sitting  at  Pittsfield  in  July.  From  then  till  I  went 
to  Springfield  early  in  September  I  was  in  Hanover  harden- 
ing up.  Every  working  day  I  spent  on  the  handles  of  a 
plough,  horse  scraper,  or  long  handled  spade  regarding  my 
place  so  as  to  include  the  lot  just  north  of  the  original  one, 
which  I  had  purchased  since  the  first  layout.  The  treatment 
proved  a  great- success,  the  result  of  which  I  am  still  enjoy- 
ing. Of  the  boys  whose  names  you  mention  I  know  noth- 
ing. I  have  met  Joe  Hobbs  on  the  street,  Jim  Barney  and 
Donnie  at  the  Dartmouth  Club  enduring  the  returns  from 
the  Colgate  and  Penn  games,  and  had  a  letter  from  Hodg 
from  the  arid  plains  of  Arizona — that  is  all. 

Sincerely, 

N.  P. 


43  Algonquin  Street,  Dorchester,  Mass.,  August  18,  '19. 
My  dear  Kenneth: — 

It  surely  was  a  sad  disappointment  both  to  Mrs.  H.  and 
myself  not  to  be  able  to  make  Hanover  for  the  vicennial. 
Family  sickness  and  business  cares  interfered.  Since  my  re- 
turn from  service  April  first  I  have  been  quite  busy  trying 
to  remodel  my  practice  and  working  hours  so  that  I  may 
get  a  few  leisure  hours  for  home  and  recreation.  The  army 
gave  me  time  to  reflect  and,  if  nothing  else,  taught  me  the 
one  fact  that  I  am  now  in  the  middle  age  class.  This  means 
time  to  slow  up  a  bit  and  shift  into  second  speed.  Conse- 
quently I  am  now  limiting  practice,  as  far  as  possible,  to 
office  work  and  consultations.  I  do  no  work  on  Saturday 
or  Sunday  and  spend  most  of  these  fishing  or  playing  golf, 


214 


true  indications  of  advancing  years*  I  am  no  Francis  Oui- 
met,  but  when  I  have  an  exceptionally  good  day  I  can  finish 
the  game  with  the  same  ball  with  which  I  started.  I  have 
killed  no  caddies  and  my  vocabulary  has  been  but  slightly 
extended.  August  is  my  vacation  month  and  I  am  just  home 
for  twenty-four  hours  to  replenish  my  wardrobe  and  fish- 
ing kit.  For  two  weeks  I  have  been  among  the  hills  of  New 
Hampshire  and  tomorrow  I  leave  for  Maine  and  black  bass 
fishing.  Mrs.  Hardwick  is  some  angler  and  can  now  land 
a  four-pound  bass  without  upsetting  the  boat.  I  have  seen 
none  of  the  fellows  for  some  time,  but  have  had  the  pleas- 
ure of  talking  over  the  'phone  once  or  twice  with  George 
Clark  and  (Barney.  I  had  a  pleasant  chat  with  Whittier  on 
the  train  when  returning  last  winter  on  furlough  from  the 
South.  It  does  me  good  to  see  how  the  class  hangs  together 
like  one  large  family  and  hope  to  keep  in  closer  touch  with 
so  loyal  a  bunch  in  the  future.  Mrs.  Hardwick  joins  me 
in  sending  our  very  best  wishes  to  you  and  all  the  '99ers. 

Sincerely, 
Everett  V.  Hardwick. 


November  i,  1919. 
Dear  Kenneth : — 

At  the  outset  I  want  to  say  that  I  am  ashamed  not  to 
have  written  to  you  before.  I  have  no  excuse,  therefore  I 
shall  not  attempt  to  make  up  one.  I  put  your  last  letter  in 
my  pocket  determined  to  send  an  answer  before  another 
week  had  passed. 

You  wanted  to  know  what  pleased  me  most  at  the  re- 
union. Well  so  many  pleasant  memories  arise  that  I  can 
hardly  say  any  one  incident  occupies  the  highest  place.  I 
have  thought  many  times  how  happy  every  one  seemed  and 
how  pleased  every  one  was  at  the  evidences  of  prosperity. 


215 


God  has  certainly  been  good  to  '99.  The  reunions  are 
milestones  in  the  life  of  '99.  I  cannot  help  thinking  of  the 
many  splendid  fellows  in  our  class  and  the  fond  affection 
each  fellow  has  for  his  classmate.  It  seems  to  be  a 
happy,  large,  loyal  family,  all  working  hard  to  make  the 
Class  of  '99  Dartmouth's  banner  class. 

We  certainly  had  a  wonderful  trip  to  Chicago  and  back 
this  summer.  Each  day  as  we  journeyed  through  the  dif- 
ferent states,  I  found  myself  repeating  "United  States  is  a 
wonderful  country."  We  were  impressed  with  the  polite- 
ness of  all  the  people  in  all  the  cities  and  towns.  Chicago 
stands  out  as  a  wonderful  and  growing  city,  but  I  must  con- 
fess that  Pennsylvania  from  Pittsburg  to  Philadelphia 
seemed  the  most  beautiful  and  prosperous  state  through 
which  we  passed. 

I  was  a  little  late  in  starting  my  wedding  trip,  but  I 
think  even  Buck,  Pap  and  Pitt  must  take  their  hats  off  to  me 
because  I  started  on  a  3,000  mile  journey  with  but  seven 
days'  experience  at  the  wheel  of  an  auto. 

Well,  Kenneth,  our  house  will  soon  be  in  a  presentable 
state  and  then  we  can  have  some  little  reunion  at  our  house 
with  George  G.  Clark  as  best  man. 

Kindest  regards  to  you  and  Mrs.  Beal.    I  am 

Sincerely  yours, 

Tim. 


Contributed  by  an  Anonymous  Friend 

Jim  Barney,  Secretary  of  the  Pope  Lumber  Company, 
Vice  President  of  the  Dorchester  Board  of  Trade,  Direc- 
tor of  the  Hub  Trust  Company,  Director  of  the  Dorchester 
Trust  Company,  Treasurer  of  a  Golf  Club,  Secretary  of  a 
Lumber  Association  or  two,  Chairman  of  the  Red  Cross 
Fund  Committee  for  Ward  20,  Boston,  and  member  of  the 
Executive  Committee  and  Treasurer  of  the  Class  of  '99, 


216 


was  this  fall  elected  President  of  the  Dartmouth  Club  of 
Boston,  to  keep  his  mind  occupied  and  keep  him  out  of 
mischief.  In  this  capacity  he  has  been  running  crowded 
meetings  Saturday  afternoons  at  the  Dartmouth  Club  for 
the  receipt  of  telegraphic  reports  of  the  football  games.  He, 
with  son  Wendell,  built  a  score  board  and  everyone  who 
has  watched  the  ball  traveling  back  and  forth  across  their 
wooden  gridiron,  in  reproduction  of  the  dramatic  games  in 
New  York  and  Hanover,  has  had  almost  as  much  fun  as  if 
at  the  real  contests  and  a  darn  sight  more  enjoyment  than 
he  got  out  of  the  Brown  game. 


Connecticut 

From  New  Bedford  to  Hartford  is  the  next  move  on 
'99/s  geographical  checkerboard.  After  a  friendly  call  on  Al 
Greenwood,  such  as  Lute  Oakes  made  last  summer  once 
between  trains,  we  drop  south  to  New  Haven,  where  Jack 
Sanborn  has  welcomed  Asakawa  back  to  the  classic  shades 
of  Yale.  Our  Oriental  pal  worked  so  industriously  at  his- 
torical research  during  his  two  years  in  Japan  that  he  ac- 
tually was  unable  once  ro  see  his  native  home.  But  he 
takes  some  pardonable  pride  in  the  fact  that  in  his  adopted 
home  of  New  England  he  is  not  likely  to  be  forgotten ;  for 
Prexy  Tucker  in  his  recent  autobiography  refers  appreci- 
atively to  Asakawa's  masterly  personal  tribute  spoken  at 
the  Quindecennial  dinner. 

West  Haven  next  gives  a  roof  to  Horace  Sears  week- 
ends though  his  daily  work  calls  him  to  New  York.  Finally 
we  close  our  Connecticut  tour  in  the  lower  lefthand  corner 
of  the  state,  at  Stamford,  where  Hawley  Chase  stands  faith- 
fully by  the  Franklin  Grammar  School,  and  where  Carl  Mil- 
ler moved  his  family  on  November  1st  into  a  fine  new  home 
at  Revonah  Manor. 

Exit  Connecticut.    Enter  Postman. 


217 


588  Broadview  Terrace,  Hartford,  Conn.,  Aug.  29,  1919. 
Dear  "K"  :— 

We  did  not  expect  to  leave  your  letter  of  long  ago  until 
this  late  date  and,  as  it  is,  Mrs.  G.  is  the  only  one  who  has 
lived  up  to  your  request. 

I  am  sending  you  her  attempt  at  a  description  of  the 
play  as  you  requested  and  then  I  am  going  home  to  her  hop- 
ing I  may  be  able  to  make  my  peace  with  her  for  I  have  not 
followed  her  explicit  instructions  to  write  you  today  a  good 
long  letter. 

Might  just  add  that  Lute  Oakes  was  on  here  week  be- 
fore last  on  a  flying  trip  to  Vermont  to  see  his  folks.  We 
are  always  pleased  to  see  him  when  he  is  East  for  we  never 
go  West  to  call  on  him. 

Wheeley  Sears  came  into  the  office  a  few  days  ago.  He 
is  about  to  change  his  work  which  will  carry  him  to  New 
York. 

Of  course  you  understand  this  is  not  a  letter  for  the 
class  report — merely  an  excuse  for  not  writing  one. 

Yours  very  truly  and  with  kindest  regards  from  both 
G's  to  both  Beals. 

Albert  N.  Greenwood. 


Yale  University,  New  Haven,  Conn.,  October  20,  1919. 
Dear  Beal : — 

You  were  good  enough  to  write  me  that  your  "Report 
would  lack  something  essential  if  it  had  no  word  from  me," 
although  you  may  possibly  have  said  the  same  to  all  members 
of  the  class,  making  every  one's  word  in  this  Report  essen- 
tial. I  fear  I  have  nothing  essential  to  say  at  this  time. 
When  I  say  that  after  two  years'  unceasing  labor  of  collect- 
ing manuscript  material  in  Japan,  I  am  beginning  to  digest 
and  collate  some  of  them  for  publication,  I  have  said  nearly 


218 


ail  I  have  to  say  about  my  special  work.  I  am  naturally  in- 
terested in  that  work  but  I  dare  not  talk  shop  in  a  class  re- 
port. I  published  a  paper  embodying  some  of  the  results  of 
my  first  year's  work  in  Japan,  but  that  also  is  a  matter  too 
special  to  interest  any  up-to-date  classmates.  Besides  in- 
vestigation and  writing,  I  have  to  do  some  teaching  along 
original  lines — original  in  subject-matter  and  original  in  its 
appearance  in  University  announcements,  but  this  teaching 
is  as  far  from  being  essential  as  is  my  research,  if  by  "essen- 
tial" is  meant  the  building  of  empires  or  the  breaking  of 
leagues  of  nations. 

If  I  seem  a  bit  sarcastic,  Mr.  Secretary,  I  am  merely 
recording  some  of  my  reflections  upon  your  word  "essen- 
tial." There  are  other  reflections  that  I  do  not  record  here, 
for  you  and  I  are  well  aware  that  a  man  who  has  been  out 
of  college  for  twenty  years  is  sometimes  apt  to  ponder  what 
is  essential  in  life  and  how  essential  his  life  is ;  and  also  that 
he  would  seldom  express  in  print  all  of  his  thoughts  on 
these  points,  but  prefer  to  let  his  deeds  and  life  express  it 
for  him,  leaving  alone  all  misunderstanding  or  lack  of  un- 
derstanding in  others.  All  his  talking  and  laughing,  all  the 
cheer  and  spice  of  his  life,  and  even  many  of  his  more  seri- 
ous activities,  are  beside  this  deeper  thought. 

So  I  can  write  only  about  non-essentials  of  my  life  in 
Japan,  as  I  have  about  those  of  my  life  in  America,  if  you 
perhaps  think  that  even  they  may  be  accepted  for  your  Re- 
port. 

Leaving  Yale  at  the  time  when  America  had  gone  into 
the  big  war  for  two  busy  months,  and  was  just  beginning  to 
reveal  her  tremendous  reserve  power  and  to  strike  out  with 
amazing  resourcefulness, — just  when  the  Allies'  condition 
in  Europe  seemed  gloomy  and  the  general  tone  of  the  war 
was  becoming  more  exciting  than  ever  before, — I  went  to 
the  people  in  the  far  Orient  that  were  curious  about  the 
war  but  not  interested,  and  from  them,  again,  I  turned  to 
their  ancient  documents  and  to  the  quiet  monasteries  and 
shrines  that  kept  them  in  the  seclusion  of  their  dark  store- 


219 


houses.  But,  Beal,  what  about  the  unity  of  this  sentence? 
Isn't  it  German  to  put  in  so  much  in  one  sentence  and  make 
it  so  confused?  Ah,  my  friend,  I  intended  to  write  up  a 
long  story  of  my  work  on  original  sources,  but  already  stum- 
ble against  the  first  sentence,  and  am  tired  of  the  job ;  I  give 
it  up  unfinished  and  never  to  be  finished.  I  have  brought 
back  a  great  lot  of  "stuff"  with  me,  and  that  is  enough.  If 
you  or  any  of  my  class  cares  to  see  what  I  have  done,  I 
shall  be  glad  to  show  it  to  him  in  my  rooms  and  tell  him.  all 
about  the  singular  experiences  I  had  over  there  while  getting 
this  thing.  As  for  writing  about  those  experiences,  I  should 
say  they  were  too  modern  to  interest  me  as  a  student  of  his- 
tory. What  I  have  got  is  the  main  thing;  how  I  got  it  is 
not  essential. 

Yours    always    for   '99, 

K.   AsakawA. 


146  Water  Street,  New  Haven,  Conn.,  November  11,  '19. 
My  dear  Kenneth : — 

Your  several  letters  and  postals  received  and  duly  laid 
aside  with  firm  intentions  of  promptly  attending  to  same. 

They  say  that  a  busy  man  always  has  time  to  attend  to 
anything  that  comes  along.  Therefore  it  must  be  that  I 
have  nothing  to  do  for  it  is  mighty  hard  work  for  me  to  find 
time  for  personal  business. 

I  have  most  of  my  evenings  at  home,  but  after  spending 
all  day  back  and  forth  from  office  to  work  and  different  jobs 
I  seldom  feel  like  writing  letters  at  home. 

I  can  answer  one  or  two  of  the  questions  contained  in 
your  letter  of  October  13  and  that  is  about  all. 

Sears  is  working  somewhere  in  New  York  and  still  liv- 
ing at  West  Haven,  Conn.,  coming  home  each  week-end. 
Haven't  seen  Sears  in  four  months,  but  above  comes  from 
Mrs.  Sears  through  Mrs.  Sanborn. 

220 


Asakawa  has  returned  from  Japan  and  now  has  an  of- 
fice in  Yale  Library,  but  I  have  not  been  fortunate  enough 
to  see  him. 

Saw  "Cav"  for  about  one  minute  between  the  halves 
of  the  B.  C.-Yale  Game  a  few  weeks  ago,  but  Cav  was  too 
busy  laying  down  the  law  to  his  team  to  pay  much  attention 
to  me.  In  fact  I  don't  believe  he  knew  who  it  was  that  greet- 
ed him. 

Have  little  to  report  of  myself.  Am  still  Superinten- 
dent of  Construction,  N.  H.  R.  R.  Think  I  am  making  good 
as  I  have  held  job  several  years  and  received  three  raises 
during  that  time,  each  one  being  voluntary  on  part  of  road. 

Have  some  big  jobs  under  way.  The  largest  is  Cedar 
Hill  Freight  Yards  with  a  capacity  of  11,000  cars  or  more. 

Sorry  indeed  that  I  could  not  attend  the  grand  reunion 
at  Hanover  and  I  can  assure  you  that  I  know  I  missed  a 
mighty  fine  time. 

Dartmouth  men  are  numerous  in  New  Haven  and  I 
meet  them  often.  Two  weeks  ago  tonight  I  met  Leonard 
Tuttle  1900  at  a  Masonic  gathering.  Had  not  seen  him  be- 
fore in  nineteen  years. 

No  additions  to  family  and  all  of  the  old  family  are 
very  well. 

This  is  not  much  of  a  letter  so  you  might  consider  it 
more  as  a  personal  note  ai.J  forget  to  print  any  of  it. 
Best  regards  to  all  'o^ers, 

John   L.    Sanborn. 


404  Union  Ave,,  West  Haven,  Conn,,  August  5,  1919. 
Dear  Kenneth : — 

It's  a  midsummer  night's  rain; — the  folks  away  and  I 
have  just  finished  pressing  my  pants  with  the  Missus'  elec- 
tric iron,  because  I  must  wear  them  in  the  morning  and  they 

221 


were  a  sight  to  behold  when  I  reached  the  house,  for  the 
rain  is  no  respecter  of  clothing. 

So  here  goes  for  a  single  line  spaced  answer  to  your 
circular  letter  of  the  28th  ult.  Just  keep  up  that  typed  stuff, 
K, — and  most  of  us  will  get  what  you  are  driving  at.  Some 
of  those  holograph  inquiries  of  George's  went  away  over  my 
head  so  I  gave  him  some  answer  and  usually  got  a  line  of 
thanks. 

I  enclose  one  of  the  last  letters  officially  written,  by 
George  to  me.  It  refers  to  the  map  Gerry  requested.  You 
see  I  was  given  the  option  of  reproducing  the  two  hemis- 
pheres as  shown  on  the  newspaper  clipping,  or  reproducing 
an  enlarged  copy  of  Mercator's  Chart  of  the  world.  As  an 
alternate,  I  submitted  that  portion  of  our  war  torn  earth 
north  of  the  equator,  making  a  map  about  seven  feet  by 
four  feet,  and  made  in  true  railroad  style.  That  is,  the 
geographical  points  Gerry  wanted  to  point  out  were  dis- 
tinguishable to  all  present,  in  whatever  condition,  color  or 
previous  condition  of  servitude.  The  outlines  were  %  inch 
wide  in  black  ink  on  white  background.  It  was  fearfully 
and  wonderfully  made.  It  was  intended  to  interest  and  en- 
tertain, not  to  instruct. 

It  was  submitted  to  Gerry  in  pencil  and  inked  under 
his  direction.  Just  as  we  were  about  to  mount  it  on  a 
drafting  board,  Gerry  thought  that  Peddy  might  like  to' al- 
lude to  Czecho-Slovia  and  regions  tributary  thereto,  so  the 
last  pencil  lines  were  put  on  to  include  the  latest  of  Europe's 
FREE  STATES.  I  inked  in  those  lines,  giving  them  about 
the  same  prominence  as  the  others. 

Now  comes  Peddy  and  finds  that  DANZIG  cannot  be 
properly  located  because  jBill's  map  is  inaccurate.  I  must 
admit  that  there  wasn't  much  left  of  the  Baltic  after  France 
had  been  given  some  prominence  and  Germany  had  been 
backed  practically  off  the  map.  The  water  had  about  been 
squeezed  from  the  Atlantic  and  the  latitude  of  Boston  was 
that  of  London. 


222 


George  has  written  me  for  the  map  but  I  don't  know 
where  it  is.  I  left  before  the  dinner  was  finished  to  catch 
the  early  train  for  New  Haven.  Captain  Watson  says  he 
stowed  the  standards  and  board  in  Robinson  Hall  and  there 
was  no  map  then  on  the  board.  It  seemed  to  fill  the  bill 
as  piece  d'art  '99. 

What  became  of  Buck?  That  question  has  caused  me 
some  anxiety.  We  stretched  the  U.  S.  A.  to  proper  width 
on  the  map  to  show  Buck's  home  town ;  possibly  the  map 
made  him  homesick. 

Recently  saw  Dickey  at  Springfield  and  Tom  Whittier 
in  New  York.  Both  expressed  keen  regret  that  they  could 
not  attend. 

The  above  is  my  limit  for  this  time.  The  fellows  are 
all  back  of  you,  so  go  to  it.  If  I  couldn't  squirm  out  of  it, 
I'd  make  you  another  world  map  if  the  request  came. 
(Which  he  did !  K.B.) 

Sincerely  and  fraternally  yours, 

Horace  H.  Sears. 


Atlantic  Square,  Stamford,  Conn.,  September  16,  1919. 
Dear  Kenneth : — 

Your  fine  letter  seemed  to  comprehend  the  entire  situa- 
tion in  regard  to  '99-past-present  and  future.  Would  that 
I  had  the  gift  of  the  poet,  or  even  that  of  a  newspaper  cor- 
respondent, so  that  I  might  properly  express  the  reactions 
which  our  recent  reunion  created. 

Surely  we  are  younger,  happier,  wiser  and  more  alive 
because  we  were  privileged  to  be  together  for  those  won- 
derful three  days.  It  seemed  to  me  that  all  our  classmates 
were  getting  their  full  stride  way  up  in  front  in  the  race  for 
the  best  the  world  has  to  offer.  It  has  been  said  that  it 
is  not  in  mortals  to  command  success,  but  we  may  deserve 


223 


it.  What  an  inspiration  for  the  optimistic  side  of  our  na- 
tures to  see  this  practical  demonstration  of  a  group  of  men 
who  not  only  deserved  success,  hut  who  also  had  the  ability 
to  command  it. 

Of  course  my  pleasure  was  doubled  because  of  Mrs. 
Miller's  enjoyment.  It  was  her  first  opportunity  to  attend 
a  reunion,  but  she  is  not  likely  to  miss  another.  Her  letter 
will  allow  me  to  cut  mine  short,  for  we  must  not  obstruct 
the  mails. 

The  Class  seemed  younger  to  me  in  its  vitality  and  life 
than  at  our  last  reunion — richer  in  experience.  The  thing 
which  I  shall  remember  longest,  was  the  ease  and  delight 
with  which  we  jumped  over  the  years  between,  and  the  thrill 
of  friendship  which  was  felt  in  meeting  again  each  mem- 
ber of  the  class. 

Our  latch  string  will  be  hung  from  our  new  home  at 
Revonah  Manor,  Stamford,  after  November  first  and  we 
want  you,  dear  Secretary,  and  every  member  of  the  class  to 
pull  it  whenever  within  reach. 

Cordially  yours, 

Charles  O.  Miller,  Jr. 

Foot  note. — I  wish  to  pay  a  tribute  to  friend  George, 
our  illustrious  former  Secretary,  who  set  a  standard  which 
I  am  sure  you  enjoyed  as  much  as  the  rest  of  us.  We  are 
indeed  doubly  fortunate — yes,  four  times  over — in  having 
Barstow,'  Donney,  Georgie  and 'you. 


Stamford,  Conn. 
Dear  Kenneth : — 

Now  that  your  address  is  Melrose  I  cannot  delay  writ- 
ing longer.  Melrose  is  a  mellifluous  sounding  name.  I 
have  often  wished  I  lived  around  Boston. 

Think  every  one  knows  how  I  enjoyed  the  reunion  and 
I  find  that  the  reunion  has  made  me  just  seven  years  and  six 


224 


months  younger.  The  tonic  effect  of  Buck  and  Pap,  the 
sedative  potion  of  Peddy  Miller  and  ,Bill  Hutch,  and  the  re- 
vitalizing power  of  Cav,  all  contributed  to  the  renewal  of 
my  youth.  I  only  wish  I  could  have  contributed  as  much. 
Should  I  continue  I  would  run  into  ecstatic  or  esoteric 
dribble  so  must  stop  in  season. 

Sincerely    yours, 

Hawley. 


New  York 

Just  northwest  of  the  little  southwest  jog  of  Connecti- 
cut where  we  left  Stamford,  but  across  in  New  York  and 
a  bit  east  of  the  Hudson,  is  Charles  Risley's  Real  Estate 
Office  in  Pleasantville.  A  short  ride  below,  in  the  vast  me- 
tropolis of  New  York  City  we  come  upon  a  pepper  sprink- 
ling of  '99, — enough  to  season  and  spice.  There  are  the 
homes  of  Frank  Surrey  and  Percy  Drake,  a  couple  of  blocks 
apart  on  Riverside  Drive,  and  the  offices  of  Pap  and  Luke 
and  Tom  Whittier  not  far  separated  on  Broadway,  with 
Joe  Gannon  in  his  new  offices, — J.  W.  G.  Inc.,  at  120  Fifth 
Avenue,  Bill  Eaton  on  Fourth  Avenue,  and  Henry  Berger, 
Ikey  Leavitt,  and  Rodney  Sanborn  on  East  39th  Street,  Fort 
Washington  Avenue,  and  West  85th  Street,  respectively, 
and  since  November  there  are  also  Horace  Sears  at  89 
Liberty  Street  and  Sam  Smith  in  the  Park  Row  Building. 

Up  the  Hudson  now  to  Wesley  Jordan's  home  in  Bea- 
con, southwest  of  Albany,  and  across  state  westward  to 
Phil  Winchester's  in  Watertown,  just  east  of  Lake  Onta- 
rio. Follow  the  Lake  around  to  Rochester  on  its  southern 
side  and  shake  hands  with  Ed  Nye  before  you  drop  way 
south  of  Buffalo  near  the  Pennsylvania  line  and  ask  Kit 
Carson  how  real  estate  booms  in  Randolph. 

New  York,  your  case  is  complete. 


225 


Call  Pennsylvania !    But  read  these  letters  first. 

50  Union  Square,  New  York,  September  5,  1919. 
Dear  "K.  Beal"  :— 

Your  "black  hand"  post  card  brought  me  up  sharply. 
First  off  I  want  to  say  "Here's  How  ?"  to  the  new  Secretary, 
and  also  congratulations  to  '99  on  their  selection. 

Your  original  communication  was  properly  placed  for 
an  early  reply,  but  the  many  things  in  which  I  am  connected 
together  with  a  Western  business  trip,  plus  Mrs.  Drake  and 
I  spending  a  small  portion  of  the  summer  in  New  England 
interfered  with  my  most  excellent  intentions,  as  you  are 
aware. 

I  am  indeed  sorry  I  can't  write  you  a  lot  of  interesting 
things  for  a  class  report;  however,  rather  content  myself 
reading  of  the  wonderful  strides  made  by  the  other  men  ot 
'99.  These  are  just  a  few  personal  lines  to  you  wishing  you 
every  success. 

Sincerely, 

Percy. 


593  Riverside  Drive,  New  York  City,  September  10,  1919. 
My  dear  "K"  :— 

I'm  answering  the  roll  call  again.  Congratulation  on 
your  elevation  to  your  high  office.  You  surely  have  some 
standards  set  for  you. 

The  "simple  facts"  about  myself  are  quickly  told.  Saw 
a  bunch  of  the  fellows  at  the  New  York  dinner — "the  big- 
gest Dartmouth  dinner  ever  held  outside  of  Hanover." 
Spent  a  few  very  pleasant  hours  in  Seattle  last  month  with 
Dr.  and  Mrs.  Woodward  and  one  of  their  fine  boys.  Useless 
to  say  "Bones"  is  keeping  up  the  traditions  of  Dartmouth 
and  '99. 

I  am  now  doing  administrative  work  in  the  same  old 
place — the  Morris  High  School.     We  have  had  another 


226 


school  lopped  off  of  us,  so  can  no  longer  claim  to  be  the 
largest  high  school  in  the  city.  We  are,  however,  still  big 
enough  to  require  two  of  us  acting  as  assistant  principals. 
That  is  not  what  they  call  us,  but  they  let  us  do  the  work. 
I'm  looking  forward  to  that  report  of  the  Vicennial  and 
will  record  my  "invincible  resolution"  to  spend  a  whole  sum- 
mer at  the  "Quarter  Century  Love-Fest" — if  you'll  have  it 
at  the  right  time. 

Sincerely    yours, 

F.    M.    Surrey. 


149  Broadway,  New  York,  October  18,  1919. 
Dear  Kenneth : — 

You  have  probably  concluded  that  I  am  a  very  poor 
correspondent.  I  am  indeed.  However,  if  I  had  had  any- 
thing substantial  or  interesting  to  communicate  covering 
my  observations  at  Hanover  in  June,  I  should  have  written 
you  in  response  to  your  first  communication. 

The  fact  is  I  did  not  arrive  till  Saturday  afternoon  and 
I  left  on  Sunday  morning.  This,  I  regret,  was  necessary; 
but  I  at  least  had  an  opportunity  to  meet  most  of  those  who 
were  in  attendance  on  account  of  the  soiree  at  Jim's  on  Sat- 
urday evening. 

Your  suggestion  of  an  informal  gathering  of  '99  men 
here  is  interesting ;  but  I  am  satisfied  from  experience  in  the 
past  that  such  a  gathering  would  result  in  getting  together 
about  two  men.  It  is  next  to  impossible  to  get  men  together 
in  this  town. 

I  am  sorry  that  I  have  to  write  so  meagerly,  for  I  sym- 
pathize thoroughly  with  the  secretary's  work.  We  iall 
should  turn  to  and  help  you,  Kenneth;  but  you  can  under- 
stand, from  what  I  have  written  that  I  really  had  no  oppor- 
tunity of  gathering  anything  to  contribute. 

Cordially  yours, 

Lucius  E.  Varney. 


227 


220  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York,  December  2,  19 19. 
Dear  Kenneth : — 

Your  request  for  a  letter  deserves  better  co-operation 
than  this  tardy  response. 

No  special  incidents  stand  out  in  retrospection  of  my 
experience  as  the  Field  Marshal  during  the  twentieth  re- 
union. 

The  practice  of  "falling  in"  and  marching  acquired  in 
previous  reunions  probably  accounted  for  the  readiness  with 
which  our  formations  were  made  and  the  faithful  partici- 
pation in  the  program  of  the  executive  committee  made  my 
task  an  easy  one. 

From  the  time  I  was  invested  with  those  decorative 
symbols  of  office,  the  brass-knobbed  baton  and  beaded  silk- 
en cord  or  sash,  and  kissed  on  both  cheeks  by  the  virgin  lips 
of  George  Clark,  I  took  my  orders  from  him.  My  instruc- 
tions were  explicitly  written  down  and  verbal  admonitions 
given   regarding   their   execution. 

The  only  thing  he  did  not  post  me  about  was  the  un- 
derstudy job  for  Buck  Burns,  suddenly  wished  upon  me  at 
our  war  experience  dinner. 

The  most  notable  event  on  our  program,  and  the  one 
which  added  most  to  the  prestige  of  Ninety-nine  for  original 
and  epoch-making  innovations,  was  the  Sunday  night  enter- 
tainment in  Robinson  Hall.  That  not  only  established  a 
precedent  for  filling  a  gap  in  the  usual  Commencement  pro- 
gram and  gave  a  fine  entertainment  to  the  class  and  its 
friends  among  the  alumni  and  faculty,  but  proved  that  when 
it  comes  to  class  talent  and  originality  Ninety-nine  continues 
to  lead. 

We  had  a  good  class  delegation  at  the  sesqui-centennial 
in  October,  most  of  which  was  domiciled  at  Newton  Inn. 
George  Clark  was  there,  but  he  didn't  give  me  any  orders  at 
that  time,  and  Mrs.  Gannon  didn't  have  to  take  any  orders 
from  me  to  pin  my  Marshal's  sash  on  "just  so"  every  time 
I  changed  my  coat. 


228 


I  am  iooking  forward  to  the  next  class  report,  and  I 
am  sure  that  you  will  prove  a  worthy  successor  to  your  il- 
lustrious and  efficient  predecessors  in  the  secretary's  chair. 
With  best  wishes  for  your  success  and  the  hope  that  it 
may  be  enhanced  by  the  co-operation  owed  to  you  by  the 
men  of  Ninety-nine, 

Cordially   yours, 

Jos.   W.   Gannon. 


New  York,  November  i,  1919. 
My  dear  Beal : — 

I  am  very  sorry  that  I  couldn't  really  attend  the  reunion. 
I  happened  to  be  among  those  present  for  a  day  or  two, 
but  the  circumstances  were  such,  and  I  had  so  many  other 
things  which  I  had  to  attend  to,  that  I  simply  had  to  pass 
up  all  idea  of  participation,  needless  to  say  to  my  very 
great  regret.  What  I  was  able  to  see  of  the  reunion  im- 
pressed me  very  deeply  as  being  very  delightful  in  every 
way. 

I  am  now  engaged  in  an  attempt  to  study  business 
methods  and  practice.  Hitherto  my  work  has  always  been 
almost  entirely  on  the  writing  end  of  newspapers,  and  I 
am  trying  to  correct  that  somewhat  one-sided  development 
so  far  as  is  possible  at  this  late  date.  But  please  do  not  con- 
sider me  at  all  as  having  retired  from  journalism. 

Yours  very  truly, 

W.    F.    Eaton. 


New  York  City,  October  16,  19 19. 
Dear  K  :— 

You  win,  I'll  just  have  to  answer  such  a  fervid  appeal, 
though  I  have  little  to  write. 


229 


We  sure  had  a  fine  time  at  the  Reunion.  My  family 
are  talking  about  it  yet  and  making  plans  for  the  next  one. 

I  never  see  any  of  our  New  York  bunch  except  at  the 
Annual  Dartmouth  Dinner. 

Have  finally  got  a  new  Dodge  and  Ronald  is  breaking  it 
in  for  me.  |  Goes  fine  and  dandy,  wouldn't  swap  for  P.  Win- 
chester's Hudson  or  Hoppy's  Reo,  or  Willie  Wardle's 
Chandler. 

What  feature  of  the  Reunion  impressed  me  the  most? 

Mrs.  Pitt  Drew  flocking  around  asking  every  one  in 
sight  or  hearing  "Has  any  one  here  seen  Pitt?" 

I  think  that  was  the  one  persistent,  consistent  and  in- 
sistent feature  of  the  whole  affair. 

Also  it  was  mighty  good  to  see  "Old  Hoss"  back  with 
us  with  the  same  old  smile  (but  a  little  less  hair)  as  ever. 
"Hoss"  and  "Cush"  were  a  reunion  all  by  themselves. 

I  threatened  to  lick  Cush  before  he  left  Hanover  and 
the  old  skunk  snuk  out  in  the  night  and  didn't  give  me  a 
chance. 

That  trip  and  feed  at  the  Country  Club  was  sure  a  nice 
feature.  Hope  we  can  repeat  next  time. 

Long  Jim's  dugout  is  the  best  architectural  feature  of 
Hanover.  If  you  doubt  my  word  ask  Pap  Abbott,  also  ask 
him  who  stole  his  glassware  right  in  the  middle  of  his 
speech.  I  hope  the  Boston  bunch  get  together  and  have 
another  show.  That  was  a  mighty  fine  idea,  and  well  carried 
out.  No  other  class  had  anything  that  could  touch  that 
within  a  mile. 

Things  are  going  about  as  ever  with  me. 

Shot  on  two  New  York  State  Teams  this  summer  and 
did  fairly  well  for  an  old  chap.  Made  one  score  of  ninety-six 
out  of  a  possible  one  hundred  at  the  iooo  yard  range.  So 
you  will  know  by  that  that  my  eyes  have  not  gone  entirely 
bad  as  yet.  Am  still  in  State  Guard  (7th  Regiment)  and 
serve  as  Supply  Sergeant  and  look  out  for  the  shooting  end 
of  the  game  for  my  Company. 


230 


I  incidentally  extract  a  few  teeth,  etc.,  to  keep  the  pot 
boiling.  Have  not  broken  the  record  ascribed  to  me  by 
Pap  Abbott  of  iooo  teeth  in  one  hour  and  five  minutes. 

He  also  claims  I  made  the  auto  trip  from  New  York  to 
Hanover  in  one  and  one-half  hours. 

I  really  think  that  would  be  too  fast  to  be  recorded  as 
an  official  record. 

Hope  next  time  we  have  more  sing-song  spells  around 
headquarters,  same  as  we  had  five  years  ago. 

Also  hope  we  can  get  Buck  Burns  to  furnish  and  per- 
sonally supervise  a  corps  of  waiters  for  our  class  dinner. 

Ronald  is  working  hard  in  school  and  getting  along 
very  well. 

Say,  K,  don't  you  think  that  whoever  is  the  first  grand- 
dad in  our  class  should  be  class-ically  ostracized?  Gosh, 
that  makes  me  feel  old ;  hope  I  am  not  the  victim. 

Well  here's  How?  to  all  the  boys, — wives  and  kiddies 
of  '99.    May  we  all  meet  again  in  1924. 

As    ever, 

Ike. 


Warren,  Mass.,  December  17,  19 19. 
Dear  Kenneth : — 

Your  letters  have  been  following  me  around  and  I 
know  that  I  should  have  answered  them  before. 

Since  I  returned  from  the  West  I  have  been  working 
on  the  valuation  of  industrial  plants.  My  headquarters  are 
in  New  York  City,  but  I  am  on  the  road  most  of  the  time  and 
only  get  into  New  York  for  a  day  or  two  at  a  time. 

It  was  a  great  treat  for  me  that  I  had  the  opportunity 
to  be  at  Hanover  at  the  last  reunion  as  that  was  the  first 
real  '99  reunion  that  I  have  ever  been  able  to  attend. 


231 


My  New  York  address  is  Room  2233,  Park  Row  Build- 
ing and  I  still  keep  my  permanent  address  at  124  State 
Street,  Windsor,  Vt. 

Wishing  you  and -all  the  boys  in  and  around  Boston  a 
Merry  Christmas,  I  remain 

Sincerely    yours, 

S.    J.    Smith. 


303  Ten  Eyck  St.,  Watertown,  N.  Y.,  October  5,  1919. 
Dear  "K"  :— 

I  have  no  excuses  to  offer,  so  I'll  not  attempt  it,  except 
to  offer  you  my  apologies  for  not  having  sooner  answered 
your  letter  of  July  28. 

First,  I  am  sending  you  under  separate  cover  a  set 
of  the  pictures  I  took  at  Reunion,  complete  except  for  the 
following  numbers : 

19,  the  class  on  Wilson  steps,  which  did  not  pan  out ; 
21  and  22,  the  class  and  ladies  in  front  of  Dartmouth,  for 
the  same  reason;  42,  which  is  of  the  bleachers  at  the  Cor- 
nell-Dartmouth ball  game  and  which  I  thought  would  be  un- 
interesting; 43,  which  is  of  activities  of  one  of  the  other 
reuning  classes ;  44,  which  is  another  shot  at  Cav  and  not 
so  good  as  the  one  I  am  sending,  No.  45. 

Possibly  some  of  these  pictures  may  be  of  interest  for 
the  report,  if  it  is  not  too  late,  and  if  there  are  any  of  them 
that  are  not  good  prints  for  reproducing,  such  as  No.  40, 
and  which  you  wish  to  use  for  that  purpose,  let  me  know  and 
I  will  send  others.  Sorry  about  40,  but  did  not  notice  till 
just  now  that  it  was  poor.  And  the  poor  place  in  the  print 
just  happened  to  hit  Mrs.  W.  I  have  put  a  few  words  on 
the  back  of  each  print  that  will  at  least  help  you  to  identify 
the  date  on  which  each  was  taken,  but  I  am  not  much  of  a 
title  writer.  Hope  there  are  a  few  that  you  think  will  prove 
of  interest,  but  I  am  sorry  that  Paul  Osgood  got  lost  on  the 


232 


Way  to  Hanover,  for  had  he  been  there  you  would  have  had 
more  pictures  to  choose  from.  N.  P.  Brown  was  shooting 
a  camera  round  more  or  less.  Possibly  he  can  add  a  few 
to  those  I  am  sending.  Some  time  in  July,  I  think  it  was, 
I  sent  a  full  set  of  prints  to  George  Clark,  and  he  was  to 
start  them  on  the  rounds  of  the  class  so  that  any  might  order 
prints  should  they  so  desire,  but  I  have  heard  nothing  from 
him  in  that  direction,  so  think  he  must  have  filed  them  away 
in  his  archives.  However,  if  any  want  them  they  can  have 
them  by  simply  standing  the  cost  of  printing,  a  nickle  apiece. 
The  set  I  am  sending  you  are  all  paid  for.  I  received  my 
pay  for  them  at  Hanover  last  June ! 

Now  as  to  the  REUNION.  It  was  one  of  the  most  en- 
joyable trips  we  have  ever  had,  including  the  717  mile  auto 
trip  (going  and  coming),  with  a  real  objective.  Not  an  in- 
cident to  mar  the  whole  journey  till  we  were  within  ten 
miles  of  home  when  a  flivver  tried  for  a  whirl  out  of  us  by 
making  intimate  relations  with  our  left  rear  mud  guard  and 
hub  cap  when  they  came  at  us  on  a  cross  road  from  our 
left.  Very  little  damage  to  us,  but  you  should  have  seen 
the  flivver!  No  personal  injuries,  however.  And  it  sure 
did  me  good  to  meet  the  good  old  friends  of  '99 !  And 
Hanover  was  at  her  best  those  days  we  spent  in  Arcady. 
To  me  personally  one  of  the  most  enjoyable  events  was  the 
opportunity  of  meeting  my  old  roommate  Joy,  for  this  was 
our  first  meeting  since  1900.  So  our  little  reuning  in  the 
midst  of  THE  reunion  had  an  added  pleasure,  especially 
since  we  were  at  the  same  time  able  to  see  him  and  his  at 
their  home  in  the  June,  so  near  at  hand.  To  me  the  great- 
est change  appeared  to  be  in  Cav,  for  his  war  experiences 
had  brought  out  a  side  of  his  character  that  I  believe  very 
few  of  us  had  realized  before  was  in  him.  He  has  shown 
us  a  deeper,  more  serious  vein  than  we  ever  realized  was 
his,  and  he  now  appears  a  better,  deeper  man  than  when 
we  saw  him  last.  We  know  Cav  now.  Many  of  us  didn't 
before.  Pick  out  the  thing  that  I  will  remember  longest? 
Impossible;  for  the  impression  brought  away  is  just  one 


233 


composite  remembrance  of  a  most  pleasant  and  profitable 
journey  and  associations  for  those  brief  days  with  the  fel- 
lows of  the  best  class  of  dear  old  Dartmouth.  The  funniest 
thing  was  Bob  Johnston.  How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  But 
it  would  have  been  funnier  had  Hoskins  taken  a  hand  with 
him  as  in  the  days  of  old.  But  that  appears  to  be  impos- 
sible, with  the  changes  that  time  has  wrought  in  Hos,  even 
to  his  entire  loss  of  hair  where  once  it  was  wont  to  grow 
so  luxuriantly.  Compare  the  picture  of  1895  with  that,  of 
191 9,  just  to  see  the  change. 

And  George  Clark?  There's  only  one  George,  and 
the  class  of  '99  is  his  family.  We  have  always  been  blessed 
with  mighty  good  secretaries,  but  George  has  done  more 
than  anybody  in  holding  '99  together  as  a  class.  And  his 
ways  are  so  quiet  that  none  of  us  fully  realize  the  amount 
of  time,  energy,  and  money  too,  that  he  has  freely  given  of 
to  make  '99  what  she  has  been  since  graduation.  We  all 
owe  him  more  than  we  can  ever  express! 

The  pictures  taken  on  Tuesday  at  Wilson  Hall  and  at 
Dartmouth  Hall  were  made  by  White  of  Hanover  and  Ar- 
thur H.  Woodman  of  Manchester  respectively,  and  I  under- 
stood that  George  was  looking  after  the  matter. 

Sincerely, 
"P."  Winchester. 


Rochester,  N.  Y.,  November  9,  1919. 
My  dear  Beal: — 

I  am  very  sorry  you  have  had  to  send  me  so  many  re- 
minders. You  know  farmers  are  not  letter  writers  and  I 
am  a  regular  farmer.  I  have  been  very  busy  all  season. 
I  might  narrate  some  of  my  activities,  but  they  probably 
would  not  interest.  My  farm  requires  much  of  my  time 
and  attention  during  the  summer.  During  the  winter  I  de- 
vote most  of  my  time  to  insurance.    The  arrangement  seems 

234 


to  be  working  out  very  well  and  the  farm  certainly  gives  me 
health  and  happiness. 

I  would  plead  the  farm  as  my  excuse  for  not  attending 
the  reunion  did  I  not  know  that  business  is  no  excuse.  How- 
ever, few  of  you  know  a  farmer's  activities  in  planting  time 
in  a  backward  season. 

Sometime  when  '99  gets  together  I  will  be  there. 

Yours  sincerely, 

Edward  L.  Nye. 


Pennsylvania 

From  Randolph,  N.  Y.,  it  is  but  a  step  across  the  line 
to  the  northwest  corner  of  Pennsylvania  on  Lake  Erie.  Here 
Arthur  Brown  has  moved  to  Erie.  Southward  across  the 
state  we  come  to  Pittsburgh,  whose  billowing  clouds  of 
smoke  following  the  veering  impulse  of  the  wind  some- 
times blow  down  over  Bill  Hutchinson's  fields  and  crops 
in  Cecil,  twelve  miles  southwest  of  the  city,  or,  oftener, 
drift  and  hang  above  Fred  Crolius  as  he  figures  and  in- 
vestigates for  the  Carnegie  Steel  Company  in  Munhall 
but  five  miles  east  of  Pittsburgh. 

An  eastward  sweep  the  whole  width  of  William  Penn's 
ancient  grant  and  Dr.  Bonney  and  Dr.  Lane  leave  their  pa- 
tients for  a  few  minutes  to  assure  us  that  the  health  of 
the  citizens  and  the  fame  of  '99  are  safe  in  Philadelphia. 

Munhall,  Pa.,  August  5,  1919. 
My  dear  "Ken":— 

I  congratulate  the  class  on  its  selection  of  the  proper 
shoulders,  irrespective  of  width,  to  carry  the  burden.  You've 
great  courage  to  undertake  the  task  so  ably  handled  by 
George,  but  you  will  have  the  wonderful  advantage  of 
merely   carrying   on   a  well  built   organization.     We   owe 


235 


George  Clark  a  lasting  debt  and  should  not  be  slow  in 
acknowledging  it. 

Words  are  wasted  in  expressing  regrets  at  missing 
all  you  boys  at  Hanover  this  June.  I  had  counted  on  that 
as  one  bright  spot  among  my  reminiscences;  just  to  have 
absorbed  some  degree  of  those  ''tons  of  enthusiasm"  for 
which  '99  was  and  is  and  always  will  be  famous,  would 
have  lightened  the  load  for  years  to  come.  But  we  are 
workers  first  and  players  last,  and  those  of  us  who  played 
the  most  earliest  must  work  the  more  later,  and  I  am  of 
that  category,  as  you  perhaps  know. 

While  you  were  playing  among  the  old  scenes,  my 
mind  constantly  reverted,  sub-consciously  perhaps,  to  our 
first  "Salt  Rush"  when,  as  freshmen,  we  took  our  first 
fall  out  of  the  Sophs,  headed  by  John  Eckstorm,  "Indian" 
McAndrew,  et  als;  to  our  amusing  classes  in  French  with 
Johnny  Roe;  to  our  debate  in  "Old  Dartmouth"  Hall,  with 
the  alumni  who  wished  to  maintain  the  Three  Cornered 
League  even  though  Dartmouth  had  outgrown  it,  to  our  vic- 
tories in  football  and  baseball ;  to  our  pleasantest  of  all 
instructive  sessions  with  Professor  Richardson,  and  even 
now  I  see  "Hoss"  and  "Bob"  with  their  high  boots  saga- 
ciously recounting  and  remarking  history;  and  so  I  could 
go  on  drawing  pictures  indefinitely. 

Much  as  I  had  hoped  to  make  the  trip,  I  found  it  im- 
possible to  coincide  what  must  be  done,  with  what  we 
would  like  to  do.     Steel  is  an  exacting  business. 

Personally,  nothing  much  to  report  out  of  the  usual, 
save  that  my  responsibilities  have  been  measurably  in- 
creased, and  at  the  same  time,  opportunities  for  more  work, 
— we  are  carrying  through  investigations  which  have  for 
their  ultimate  aim  the  lessening  of  manual  labor,  or  con- 
versely, an  increased  output  per  unit  of  labor  involved, — 
which  all  means  a  little  toward  the  Wilson  millennium  of 
a  better  world  to  live  in,  and  to  work  in,  and  judging  from 
the  wave  of  Bolshevism,  there's  nothing  to  the  future 
but  work. 


236 


Am  looking  forward  with  enthusiasm  to  your  coming 
year  book,  always  a  welcome  oasis  in  my  year,  especially 
this  year,  when  it  will  be  filled  with  the  wonderful  achieve- 
ments through  a  vital  period  in  all  our  lives. 
Be^st  wishes  for  your  maiden  effort, 

Cordially, 
Frederick  J.  Crolius, 

Steam  Engineer. 


1 1 17  Spruce  Street,  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  October  28,  1919. 
Dear  Beal: — 

With  this  letter  please  accept  my  apology  for  delaying 
so  long  in  replying  to  yours  of  July  28th.  The  "follow-up" 
cards  were  also  duly  received.  I  mislaid  the  first  card 
together  with  your  letter  and  had  to  write  to  George  Clark 
to  get  your  address.  Perhaps  one  reason  for  not  writing 
sooner  is  that  I  haven't  anything  of  importance  to  say.  It 
is  the  same  old  daily  routine  of  working  at  least  twelve 
hours  out  of  the  twenty- four,  six  days  out  of  the  week — 
some  different  from  the  six-hour  five-day  a  week  plan  that 
the  coal  miners  are  insisting  upon.  Last  summer  I  had 
only  one  week's  vacation,  although  I  did  get  a  week  in 
May,  which  helped  out  a  great  deal,  as  I  was  very  tired 
after  completing  my  school  work. 

The  year  1924  is  still  some  distance  away,  but  it  is 
now  my  intention  to  make  up  for  what  I  lost  in  the  year 
1919  by  going  to  the  Quarter  Century  Anniversary. 
I  have  been  back  to  Hanover  only  once  in  the  twenty 
years  since  the  Class  of  ^99  was  graduated;  consequently, 
feel  I  could  enjoy  a  visit  there  just  a  little  better  than  those 
who  have  made  frequent  visits.  There  is  a  young  fellow 
in  my  class  at  Jefferson  this  year  who  was  graduated  from 
Dartmouth  in  191 7  and  afterward  took  two  years  in  the 
medical  school,  entering  here  this  year  as  a  Junior.     In 


237 


conversation  with  him  the  other  day,  he  remarked  he  was 
only  two  years  old  when  I  was  graduated.  It  sort  of 
makes  one  feel  like  a  relic  to  hear  such  a  remark. 

With  regard  to  the  '99  men  I  have  not  seen  anything 
of  Pete  Lane  for  a  year  nor  of  Freem  Sewall  for  several 
years.  Sewall,  however,  is  back  at  his  home  in  Bridgeton, 
N.  J.    No  doubt  you  met  him  at  the  Reunion  last  June. 

Your  position  as  secretary  is  not  altogether  an  en- 
viable one,  particularly  when  you  have  to  send  three  or 
four  reminders  to  some  of  the  fellows  like  myself  before 
you  get  a  reply.  However,  the  laggards  will  probably 
get  just  as  much  pleasure  from  reading  your  Class  Report 
as  those  who  answered  your  letter  promptly.  When  George 
Clark  was  secretary,  he  and  I  became  quite  intimate.  He 
passed  through  Philadelphia  some  two  or  three  years  ago 
and  telephoned  me  from  Broad  Street  Station.  It  was  a 
great  disappointment  he  did  not  have  time  to  stop  for  at 
least  a  couple  of  hours. 

Well,  here  is  hoping  that  you  may  get  through  the 
job  easily  and  give  us  all  some  interesting  reading. 

With  kindest  regards,  believe  me, 

Very  truly  yours, 
Charles  W.  Bonney. 


New  Jersey 

By  this  time  some  of  the  fellows  we  left  in  their  New 
York  offices  are  back  home.  And  hurrying  out  by  the 
Erie  R.  R.  we  come,  eight  miles  west  of  Hoboken,  to  Joe 
Hartley,  now  doing  clerical  work  in  Arlington,  N.  J.,  while 
eight  miles  farther  west  and  a  little  north,  Joe  Gannon  is 
just  entering  his  Montclair  home.  Traveling  on  the  C.  R. 
of  N.  J.  twice  as  far  to  the  southwest  of  Jersey  City  as 
Joe  went  on  his  homeward  trip  to  Montclair,  Pap  has 
reached  his  supper  table  in  Plainfield. 


238 


Southward  in  central  New  Jersey  a  red  glare  in  the 
skies  startles  us.  It  proves  to  be  the  artillery  hall  and 
barracks  of  the  Princeton  University  Field  Artillery  R.  C. 
T.  G.  blazing  fiercely  despite  a  driving  rain  while  Jerry  and 
the  other  Profs  and  the  whole  student  body  stand  watching. 
Too  bad  to  interrupt  Jerry's  novel  that  way! 

One  more  move  and  we  reach  the  bottom  of  New 
Jersey,  where  Freem  Sewall,  back  in  Bridgeton,  has  dropped 
the  military  "Major"  for  the  civilian  "Doctor." 

There's  that  postman,  right  on  time  again. 

November  17,  1919. 
Dear  George: — 

You  can  kick  me  for  not  writing  next  time  you  see 
me.  My  present  address  is  423  Elm  Street,  Arlington,  N. 
J.     Occupation,  clerk — not  married  and  still  happy. 

Kindly  give  my  regards  to  Beal.  I  have  mislaid  his 
address.  If  I  can  make  Boston  during  the  holidays  will 
drop  in  and  see  you. 

Sincerely  yours,    ' 
Joseph  H.  Hartley. 


25  Broad  Street,  New  York,  August  7,  1919. 
My  dear  "K"l— 

I  can  see  another  live  wire  for  a  secretary.  "Atta 
boy",  give  the  fellows  a  "Dempsey"  right  at  the  start  and 
get  them  writing  you  before  the  beer  gets  flat.  There  is 
so  much  I  could  say  that  a  special  edition  of  a  report  on 
my  own  musings  might  be  given  "Mussie."  I  want  to 
go  on  record,  "K,"  and  say  that  if  there  is  a  heaven  on 
earth  it  was  the  time  in  Hanover  on  our  20th  Reunion. 
I'll  tell  the  world  that  it  was  a  continuous  merry-go-round 
with  a  brass  ring  for  every  man. 


239 


There  have  been  changes  in  some  of  the  fellows  but 
for  the  most  part  these  changes  are  for  the  better,  and 
where  perhaps  now  and  then  you  might  observe  a  dis- 
appointing nature,  it  is  in  my  opinion  only  on  the  surface. 
Personally,  I  am  one  of  those  brainless  kind  of  men  who 
cannot  possibly  be  awed  by  the  seriousness  of  life  and  when 
I  work  it  is  only  with  the  idea  of  the  big  play  afterwards. 
Right  here  let  me  throw  in  a  wee  bit  of  criticism  of  our 
last  reunion  and  a  mild  suggestion  for  the  future. 

Stone  steps  to  sit  upon  and  a  narrow  front  door 
porch  surrounded  by  air  on  three  sides  and  a  high  roof 
is  not  very  soul-inspiring.  To  get  right  down  for  a  heart- 
to-heart  talk  with  the  fellows  and  really  uncover  what  the 
man  has  developed  in  twenty  years,  it  requires  a  room 
with  four  walls,  a  bench  or  chair  to  sit  upon  and  with  free 
spitting  and  smoking  acquaintance  with  the  floor.  A  place 
where  the  fellows  are  free  to  talk  out  and  know  that  what 
is  said  or  sung  or  told  is  for  the  men  of  '99  as  they  were 
twenty  years  ago.  I  love  the  ladies  and  I  love  to  have 
them  around  but  not  to  have  a  cellar  or  garret  of  some 
kind  marked  "Men  only"  for  a  headquarters  for  '99  is  a 
big  omission. 

An  instance  of  this  was  when  ten  or  a  dozen  of  the 
fellows  gathered  in  our  room  Monday  afternoon,  osten- 
sibly to  christen  Lena.  We  sat  on  the  floor  and  it  was 
then  that  we  really  reuned.  We  sang,  told  stories  and 
kidded  one  another  to  our  heart's  content.  We  were  boys 
again,  unmarried  and  carefree.  It  was  at  this  little  im- 
promptu gathering  that  I  began  to  really  know  "Jim  Rich." 
Let  me  say  and  I'll  tell  the  world  so  that  class  spirit  and 
class  everything  are  all  embodied  in  Jim.  His  position  is 
such  that  he  might  very  easily  have  ducked  many  things 
that  he  did  not  and  have  been  excused  for  it.  But  no,  Jim 
was  right  there  and  adding  to  the  merriment  of  all  gather- 
ings. It  is  to  Jim  then  that  I  give  my  vote  for  contributing 
to  the  social  success  of  our  days  together. 


240 


More  close  hums  and  shoulder  to  shoulder  times  sur- 
rounded by  cobwebs  and  dirt,  if  necessary,  but  more  of 
them  and  let  the  ladies  be  a  pleasing  feature  of  the  reunion 
and  not  the  whole  show. 

I  want  to  mention  also  Jim  Walker.  I  never  knew 
Jim  well  in  college,  but  I'll  tell  the  world  that  if  they  grow 
finer  men  than  Jim  Walker,  I  don't  know  it.  Here's  how, 
Jim.  As  for  "Buck,"  well,  I  could  shout  forty  pages  on 
him.  We  just  married  one  another  from  the  day  we  left 
New  York  until  we  rode  out  Tuesday  morning.  Dartmouth 
College  is  Puck  to  me  and  Buck  is  Dartmouth.  He  has  not 
changed  or  never  will.  His  actions  at  our  banquet  were 
the  funniest  piece  of  comedy  I  hope  to  see  off  the  stage. 

My  business  address  now  is  care  Paine,  Webber  & 
Company,  25  Broad  Street,  New  York  City.  I  have  been 
here  now  for  four  months  and  have  left  O.  J.  Brand  & 
Company,  where  I  was  for  eight  years.  It  is  the  same  line 
of  business  but  quite  an  advancement  in  all  ways  for  me. 

I  am  going  to  quit,  "K,"  and  am  leaving  George  Clark 
to  the  last  to  tell  the  world  that  here  is  a  man  that  some 
day  will  be  the  biggest  organizer  in  the  country.  Hats  off 
every  man  of  '99  to  George  and  let  every  man  get  down 
on  his  knees  and  thank  the  Lord  first  that  he  is  a  Dart- 
mouth man,  second  that  he  is  in  the  Class  of  '99,  and  third 
that  he  knows  George  Clark. 

Kindly  let  me  hear  from  you  if  there  is  anything  I 
can  do  to  help  you  out  in  your  strenuous  work  for  the  class. 

With  best  regards,  I  am 

Very  truly  yours, 
"Pap." 


Princeton,  N.  J.,  November  3,  1919. 
Dear  Ken: — 

November  is  late  to  record  the  impressions  of  June; 
but  the  impressions  of  the  Vicennial  are  still  fresh  and 

241 


vivid  in  my  mind.  First  of  all,  I  wish  to  say  that  I  had 
a  quite  remarkably  good  time  all  the  way  through,  except 
on  the  evening  of  the  dinner.  That,  however,  is  not  so 
important  as  the  impression  I  got  of  my  classmates.  More 
than  ever  before,  I  think,  I  rejoiced  in  belonging  to  so 
fine  a  body  of  men  in  the  corporate  way  in  which  we  do 
belong  together.  Almost  every  man  I  met — and  I  think 
I  talked  with  nearly  everyone — seemed  to  me  to  have  gone 
on  through  twenty  years  developing  the  best  that  was  in  him. 
There  they  were,  in  the  full  vigor  of  what  I  suppose  we 
must  now  admit  to  be  middle  age,  and  grown  up  though 
not  grown  old.  Even  the  happiest  optimist  could  not  have 
foretold  that  they  would  have  accomplished  so  much  in  so 
many  lines  of  work  or  would  have  become  so  interesting  as 
representatives  of  their  various  callings.  I  don't  mean  that 
I  found  the  class  a  galaxy  of  all  the  talents,  but  I  did  re- 
joice in  the  solid  achievement  which  it  represented.  Badly 
as  we  were  educated  in  many  respects,  we  must  have  got 
a  good  deal  that  was  valuable  during  our  four  years  at 
Hanover.  At  any  rate,  it  is  clear  that  our  natural  abilities 
were  not  stunted  by  our  college  course,  for  there  has  been 
growth  all  along  the  line  and  all  through  the  years. 

One  other  thing.  The  committees  of  arrangement 
had  done  their  work  in  a  way  that  was  beyond  all  praise. 
I  know  that  everybody  felt  that.  And  of  course  the  king 
pin  was  George  Clark,  to  whom  we  owe  a  tremendous 
debt  for  his  loyalty  and  labor.  I  know  that  nobody  was 
more  sorry  than  you  that  he  refused  to  go  on  as  secretary, 
but  I  am  sure  that  everybody  is  going  to  give  you  the 
same  support  that  he  commanded.  We  thank  you  in  ad- 
vance, as  the  T.  B.  M.  sometimes  so  exasperatingly  remarks. 

I  am  sorry  I  couldn't  see  you  at  the  Sesqui-centennial. 
I  couldn't  get  there  till  Sunday  without  cutting  a  Satur- 
day lecture,  which  I  knew  I  should  have  to  cut  a  couple  of 
weeks  later  on  account  of  a  speech  I  had  promised  to  make 
in  New  York.     I  was  glad  that  so  many  of  the  fellows 


242 


stayed  over  Sunday,  which  gave  me  a  chance  to  see  a  good 
number  of  them. 

Thanks  for  your  congratulations  on  the  increase  of 
salaries  here.  If  we  get  the  sums  for  which  we  are  just 
starting  a  drive,  I  trust  that  we  may  have  our  salaries 
raised  by  the  end  of  the  year  to  a  point  where  we  can  al- 
most live  on  them.    At  present  I  can  just  about  half  do  it ! 

Haven't  heard  a  word  about  Sewall.  He  lives  down 
below  Philadelphia,  you  know,  in  a  direction  in  which  I  am 
never  called. 

Ever  sincerely  yours, 

Jerry. 


May  13,  1919. 

Dear  George: — 

Home  again,  demobilized,  plain  civilian  once  more. 
My  foi,  it  feels  good  to  get  that  little  red  strip  on  the  arm. 
See  you  in  June  and  shall  appreciate  any  dope  you  may 
have  concerning  the  "doings."  Am  in  excellent  health  and 
found  the  family  glad  to  welcome  me  home  again. 

Sincerely, 
M.  J.  Sewall,  Civilian, 

Late  Major  M.  C.    U.  S.  A. 


195  E.  Commerce  St.,  Bridgeton,  N.  J.,  August  7,  1919. 
Dear  George: — 

Evidently  my  telegram  had  not  reached  you  when  you 
wrote  me  last :  I  wired  inability  to  come  on  Saturday. 
The  serious  illness  and  death  of  my  closest  friend  kept  me 
here  though  I  hoped  to  get  away  until  Saturday  P.  M.  I 
felt  I  must  come  but  also  felt  my  obligation  here  under  the 
circumstances.     I  had  banked  on  the  Reunion  for  months 


243 


and  had  some  other  important  business  in  New  England 
as  well.  The  thought  of  not  coming  never  entered  my  head 
until  the  last  moment  and  I  held  out  until  the  last  train  had 
departed.  I  wished  much  to  see  you  all  and  was  anxious 
to  give  you  all  anything  of  interest  I  might  have  for  you. 
Hope  to  see  you  in  the  fall  in  Boston. 

Sincerely, 

M.  F.  Sew  all. 


Maryland  and  Washington,  D.  C. 

Our  four-cornered  survey  is  nearly  completed  and 
ends  appropriately  in  the  National  Capital.  Raymond  Pearl 
of  course  is  at  Baltimore,  at  Johns  Hopkins  now,  his  no- 
table work  with  Hoover  accomplished.  You  will  relish 
his  long  suppressed  account  of  our  ex-secretary's  work  in 
Washington.  The  Washington  colony  has  shrunk  from 
its  wartime  basis  to  a  peace  quota  of  three.  Warren  Ken- 
dall lives  as  strenuously  as  ever,  with  frequent  trips  here, 
there  and  everywhere,  on  railroad  business,  organizing, 
and  speaking.  A  recent  address  was  before  the  New  York 
Railroad  Club  in  October.  Frank  Staley  is  busier  than 
ever  now  that  he  has  transferred  from  the  Food  Adminis- 
tration to  the  War  Risk  Bureau,  and  Rab  Abbott  has  come 
on  to  do  permanent  work  with  the  Farm  Loan  Division 
of  the  Treasury  Department. 

So  '99  is  on  faithful  guard  at  the  headquarters  of 
American  life  as  well  as  at  its  distant  outposts. 

Your  last  call,  for  this  time,  Mr.  Postman. 

Chicago,  August  6,  191 9. 
Dear  K:— 

Your  circular  letter  of  July  28  reached  me  here  in 
Chicago  yesterday.  I  am  making  a  special  statistical  in- 
vestigation this  summer,   which *  involves  travelling  pretty 

244 


well  all  over  the  United  States.  Mrs.  Pearl  is  with  me,  and 
we  are  now  on  the  way  to  Minneapolis,  from  which  point 
we  shall  start  off  sometime  next  week  for  the  Pacific  Coast 
by  way  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  through  the  Canadian 
Rockies. 

Your  outline  of  what  you  want  us  to  write  about  in 
connection  with  the  reunion  seems  to  me  a  little  difficult  to 
follow.  Personally,  it  was  this  time,  as  always,  very  diffi- 
cult for  me  to  see  any  fundamental  changes  in  the  men 
in  the  class.  I  feel  about  them  as  I  do  about  the  members 
of  my  own  family,  namely,  that  superficial  changes  such 
as  increased  prosperity  and  all  that  sort  of  thing  do  not 
matter.  At  bottom  they  are  the  same  genuine  good  fellows 
who,  in  their  relations  to  each  other,  will  always  be  the 
same.  It  was  a  particularly  keen  pleasure  to  me  to  see  this 
time  some  of  the  men  I  had  not  seen  since  graduation, 
notably  Spade  Heywood  and  Eddie  Skinner.  In  common 
with  most  of  the  men  in  the  class,  I  am  sure  I  should  not 
have  known  Galusha. 

About  the  fellows  not  there  I  want  in  particular  to 
mention  that  about  three  weeks  ago  I  saw  Frank  Staley  in 
Washington,  and  find  that  since  he  left  the  Food  Adminis- 
tration he  has  gone  forward  into  a  very  important  posi- 
tion in  the  (Bureau  of  War  Risk  Insurance.  He  is  a  sec- 
tion chief  in  that  Bureau  now  with  an  unbelievably  large 
number  of  people  working  under  him,  I  think  something 
like  twelve  hundred,  and  is  charged  with  the  man  sized 
job  of  keeping  the  records  straight  for  every  individual 
who  was  insured  or  had  home  allotments  on  his  pay  with 
the  War  Risk  Insurance.  Inasmuch  as  this  involves  prac- 
tically every  enlisted  man  in  the  Army,  it  can  readily  be 
seen  that  this  is  a  proposition  of  considerable  magnitude. 
Frank  appears  to  be  thriving  under  it,  and  I  judge  will 
before  long  be  advanced  into  a  still  more  important  position 
with  the  Bureau. 

I  welcome  the  opportunity  which  you  throw  open  to 
say  something  about  George  Clark.     In  my  letter  for  him 


245 


for  the  last  class  report  I  put  in  an  account  of  his  work 
with  the  Food  Administration,  which  he,  with  an  entirely 
unreasonable  modesty  cut  out.  I  had  expected  to  tell  the 
fellows  in  the  class  the  story  at  the  time  of  the  class  dinner 
in  Hanover,  Gerould  having  connived  with  me  to  this  end. 
Unfortunately,  however,  I  had  to  be  away  from  Hanover  on 
the  night  of  the  dinner  and  lost  that  chance.  Now,  however, 
you  have  given  me  the  golden  opportunity.  The  whole 
story  runs  like  this.  Along  in  the  summer  of  1918  Mr. 
Hoover  felt  that  the  time  had  come  to  make  a  proper  record, 
and  at  the  same  time  do  some  further  constructive  work 
regarding  the  general  economic  effects  of  Food  Administra- 
tion policies  and  activities.  We  had  a  good  many  talks 
about  the  matter,  and  he  asked  me  to  find  for  him  the  best 
man  in  the  country  to  deal  with  the  economic  problems 
and  results  of  our  Food  Administration  work.  We  first 
canvassed  the  college  and  university  field,  and  after  a  good 
deal  of  deliberation,  as  well  as  some  prior  experience  with 
college  professors  of  political  economy,  decided  there  was 
no  one  in  the  group  that  would  do  for  our  purpose.  The 
next  thought  was  to  get  someone  from  the  group  of  econom- 
ic writers  in  and  around  Wall  Street,  men  who  had  been 
connected,  or  were  connected,  with  the  leading  financial 
papers.  I  interviewed  a  number  of  people  in  this  class, 
supposedly  from  all  the  information  I  could  get  the  best 
men  in  the  lot.  Still  they  did  not  seem  to  have  the  qualifi- 
cations which  we  wanted.  Finally  I  said  to  Mr.  Hoover 
one  day,  "I  believe  I  know  a  man  who  will  do  the  job  for 
us.  He  is  a  lawyer  in  Boston,  and  to  the  best  of  my  knowl- 
edge has  never  studied  economics,  but  who  has,  I  believe, 
the  qualifications  which  we  want."  Mr.  Hoover  told  me 
to  go  get  him,  so  by  a  proper  wartime  use  of  the  telegraph 
I  tore  George  Clark  away  from  his  harvesting  and  brought 
him  on  to  Washington.  Events  were  moving  pretty  rapidly, 
and  it  so  turned  out  that  I  had  to  leave  for  Europe  the 
day  that  George  arrived  in  Washington.  I  did  not  even 
have  time  to  introduce  him  to  Hoover.     I  simply  turned 


246 


him  loose  with  the  most  general  and  ill-defined  statement 
of  what  he  was  expected  to  do,  gave  him  an  office  and 
went  away. 

The  outcome  was  successful  beyond  anything  that 
either  Mr.  Hoover  or  I  had  anticipated.  George  did  one 
of  the  most  brilliant  pieces  of  work  done  anywhere  in 
Washington  in  connection  with  the  war.  If  the  armistice 
had  not  come  just  at  the  time  when  it  did,  thus  taking  the 
bottom  out  of  everything,  his  work  would  have  had  a  real 
influence  in  shaping  the  economic  policy  of  the  country  in 
the  post-war  period.  As  it  is,  I  still  hope  that  it  will  be 
possible  to  have  the  material  published  which  he  worked 
up.  It  will  make  one  of  the  most  brilliant  and  profound 
contributions  to  the  literature  of  economics  which  has  ever 
been  made  in  this'  country.  Besides  all  this  he  won  the 
respect  and  genuine  affection  of  everyone  with  whom  he 
came  in  contact  in  the  Food  Administration  from  Hoover 
down  the  line  to  the  office  boy.  Altogether,  I  feel  sure  that 
the  fellows  in  the  class  have  no  adequate  conception  of  the 
real  abilities  of  George  Clark.  If  events  should  ever  turn 
so  that  I  should  again  chance  to  be  charged  with  consider- 
able executive  responsibilities,  our  honored  and  well  be- 
loved ex -secretary  would  be  one  of  the  first  men  I  should 
try  to  gtt  as  a  helper. 

You  ask  about  the  degrees.  The  important  one  was 
the  D.  Sc.  from  Dartmouth,  which  was  a  deeper  satis- 
faction to  me  than  any  other  honor  I  have  ever  had,  or  so 
far  as  I  can  see,  ever  will  have.  The  other  was  an  LL.  D. 
from  the  University  of  Maine. 

With  best  regards,  and  wishing  you  all  success,  in  your 
new  job,  which  I  know  will  be  yours,  I  am 

Faithfully  yours, 

Raymond  Pearl. 


247 


Washington,  D.  C,  August  26,  1919. 
Dear  Kenneth: — 

As  September  1  draws  nearer  I  feel  a  response  is  due 
your  demand  for  material  prior  to  that  date  and  so  I  am 
sending  you  a  partial  report  now  in  order  to  appear,  at 
least,  to  get  under  the  wire. 

Willard  is  resigning  his  position  with  the  Census  Bu- 
reau to  return  to  the  University  of  Maine  as  Professor  of 
mathematics.  He  is  packing  up  his  household  goods  now 
and  will  leave  with  his  family  sometime  between  the  1st 
and  the  15th  of  next  month.  I  think  this  election  came 
to  him  at  a  most  opportune  time  and  it  is  recognition  which 
he  richly  deserves.    Tony  is  a  hard  worker. 

Frank  Staley  after  the  break-up  of  the  Food  Ad- 
ministration went  to  the  War  Risk  Bureau  of  the  Treasury 
Department  and  while  at  first  he  talked  as  though  this  was 
to  be  a  temporary  position,  in  my  last  conversation  with 
him  I  thought  he  was  a  little  more  settled  in  his  mind  that 
he  would  see  this  thing  through,  apparently  his  work  having 
grown  in  volume  and  importance  so  that  he  is  now  in  charge 
of  a  very  large  section.  He  lives  just  outside  of  the  centre 
of  town  in  a  large  house  which  was  occupied  .by  Steve 
Chase  so  long  as  his  work  was  in  Washington, — they  having 
moved  to  the  vicinity  of  Baltimore.  Frank  has  three 
splendid  boys  and  they  are  getting  the  advantage  of  a 
Washington  atmosphere  during  an  important  period  of  their 
lives.  I  believe  that  Frank  is  due  to  stay  here  at  least 
another  year,  although  this  is  not  anything  which  comes 
to  me  directly. 

E.  A.  Abbott  is  the  only  other  member  of  our  class 
who  is  still  in  Washington.  His  work  is  of  a  permanent 
nature  with  the  Farm  Loan  Division  of  the  Treasury  De- 
partment and  as  I  understand  is  something  in  line  with  what 
he  has  been  doing  in  California  except  that  he  is  at  head- 
quarters instead  of  in  one  of  the  branches.  I  judge  this 
is  an  important  change. 

Your  very  truly, 

Warren. 
248 


Washington,  May  3,  1919. 
Dear  George: — 

I  may  or  may  not  be  in  the  east  in  June;  it  depends 
upon  whether  or  not  my  present  position  holds  out.  And 
if  it  does,  I  have  great  doubts  about  being  allowed  any  time 
off  so  soon  after  acquiring  the  job.  The  war  emergency 
rules  and  regulations  have  been  set  aside  in  favor  of  the 
hard  and  fast  rules  of  the  days  of  peace,  and  the  Treasury 
Department,  in  which  I  am  employed,  is  a  great  stickler 
for  sticking  fast  to  Departmental  red  tape. 

To  be  real  frank,  I  do  not  believe  that  I  shall  be  able, 
to  get  away.  We  are  rushed  to  death  with  work,  and  the 
threatened  rapid  demobilization  of  the  army  will  swamp  us. 
So  as  it  looks  to  me  now,  I  shall  be  very  lucky  if  I  get  to 
the  dinner  at  all,  and  it  will  probably  be  only  in  time  to  help 
carry  in  the  dessert. 

Yours  truly, 

Frank  C.  Staley. 


Washington,  August  18,  1919. 
My  dear  Beal: — 

I  have  your  appeal  of  July  28  and  will  try  to  tell  you 
a  little  about  myself,  but  will  not  attempt  to  enlarge  on 
the  Daylight  Saving,  Price  Fixing,  etc.,  as  the  daily  papers 
are  full  of  this  and  written  by  more  able  and  better  posted 
men. 

I  felt  it  was  unjust  to  myself  and  the  class  that  I  could 
not  attend  the  reunion,  but  inasmuch  as  I  had  just  spent 
about  four  hundred  dollars  in  getting  myself  and  family  to 
Washington,  D.  C,  and  had  only  been  on  the  job  a  few 
weeks  and  further  that  the  Department  was  flooded  with 
work,  etc.,  etc.,  I  found  it  impossible  to  avail  myself  of  the 
joy  of  seeing  the  class  and  Hanover  this  year.     Kendall 


249 


called  me  up  and  urged  me  to  go  and  said  auto  transporta- 
tion would  be  provided  from  New  York  to  Hanover,  but 
it  was  no  use. 

I  thought  of  you  all  many  times  and  would  like  to  have 
been  there. 

Now  as  to  myself.  The  Farm  Loan  Bureau  here  had 
need  of  the  services  of  a  man  posted  on  conditions  of 
agriculture  and  land  values  in  the  West,  especially  on  the 
Pacific  Coast,  and  through  the  Federal  Land  Bank  of  Berke- 
ley they  picked  on  me  and  I  accepted  and  here  I  am.  My 
.work  is  examining  the  loans,  submitted  by  the  various 
Land  Banks  throughout  the  West,  as  a  basis  for  bond  is- 
sues and  analyzing  and  approving  or  rejecting  them.  This 
work  is  rather  interesting  and  instructive  and  my  land  and 
loan  work  during  the  last  twenty  years  has  fitted  me  for 
the  work. 

It  pays  a  good  salary  and  the  hours  are  easy  and  the 
work  plenty.  If  it  were  not  for  the  profiteering  in  rents 
now  so  common  in  Washington,  life  would  be  very  sweet. 
However,  the  saying  is  that  once  you  have  lived  in  Cali- 
fornia you  will  never  be  satisfied  elsewhere  and  I  fear  that 
is  true.  I  miss  the  open,  free  life  of  that  glorious  state, 
the  wonderful  climate  and  the  auto  travel  from  one  part 
to  the  other,  the  freedom  from  office  hours,  etc.,  etc.,  and 
feel  I  will  never  be  entirely  happy  until  I  return  to  dear 
old  California.     My  wife  heartily  joins  me  in  this. 

Since  living  here  I  spent  one  very  pleasant  Sunday 
afternoon  with  Willard  and  his  family.  We  had  a  dandy 
visit  and  I  was  pleased  to  meet  his  charming  wife  and  in- 
teresting children  and  don't  forget  the  dog  also.  He  is 
fighting  the  H.  C.  L.  with  a  dandy  garden  and  worlds  of 
wild  berries  on  every  hand.  We  sampled  some  of  these 
berries  and  some  excellent  apple  pie  later  in  the  evening. 

The  Farm  Loan  Act  is  doing  a  wonderful  work  in 
aiding  the  farmer  all  over  the  United  States  to  secure 
cheaper  money,  stabilizing  interest  rates,  and  bringing  more 


250 


land  under  cultivation  and  increasing  food  production.  Just 
what  effect,  if  any,  the  Act  will  have  in  providing  or  as- 
sisting returning  soldiers  to  secure  a  farm  is  a  problem 
for  the  future  and  by  no  means  settled. 

The  President,  Congress  and  all  the  leading  men  of 
the  Capitol  are  now  struggling  with  the  questions  of  high 
prices  and  low  wages,  increasing  cost  of  living  and  wage 
demands,  strikes,  etc.,  etc.,  "and  the  end  is  not  yet."  We 
are  all  interestedly  watching  the  outcome  and  hoping  for 
results  and  some  action  which  will  assist  in  readjusting 
general  conditions  to  more  normal  times. 

Daylight  Saving  is  favored  by  the  cities  and  big  moneyed 
centers  but  frowned  on  by  the  farmer.  Rightly,  no  doubt, 
but  the  farmer,  like  other  business  men  finds  it  impossible 
to  regulate  his  office  hours  entirely  according  to  his  personal 
convenience. 

On  my  way  here  I  had  a  delightful  visit  with  Dr. 
Cushman  at  lunch  and  had  the  pleasure  of  introducing  him 
to  my  wife.  He  looks  fine,  fat  and  prosperous.  I  hope  he 
will  stop  over  here  on  one  of  his  trips  East. 

Now,  finally,  Friend  Beal,  I  can  frankly  say  that  you 
will  have  to  work  early  and  late  to  keep  up  the  pace  set 
by  our  old  friend  G.  C.  who  was  always  springing  some 
interesting  surprise  on  us  and  urging  us  in  his  penned  re- 
marks at  the  'bottom  of  the  letter  to  "do  our  best."  We  all 
await  with  interest  to  see  how  you  keep  up  the  good  work. 
Slip  her  in  high  and  let's  have  a  report.     We  all  like  them. 

I  hope  you  can  pick  out  some  bits  from  this  letter  which 
you  will  find  helpful.  It  leaves  me  busy,  in  fine  health, 
and  trying  to  meet  conditions  as  they  come. 

With  kindest  regards  to  yourself  and  any  of  the  boys 
you  meet,  I  am 

Most  sincerely  yours, 

E.  A.  Abbott. 


251 


THE  ALUMNI  MAGAZINE 

The  Executive  Committee  wish  to  call  the  attention  of 
'99  men  earnestly  to  the  publication  known  as  the  Dart- 
mouth Alumni  Magazine.  It  is  published  nine  times  a  year, 
in  November,  December,  January,  February,  March,  April, 
May,  July,  and  August.  Annual  subscription  is  $1.50,  or 
single  copies  $.20.  It  is  published  distinctly  for  graduates 
of  the  college,  and  contains  in  every  issue  live  personal 
notes  from  the  various  classes  as  well  as  important  and 
interesting  college  news. 

The  Secretary  purposes,  with  the  zealous  and  gossipy 
cooperation  of  everybody,  to  hold  up  '99's  end  in  the  pages 
devoted  to  class  notes.  But  these  class  notes  miss  their 
principal  aim  if  the  members  of  the  class  are  not  seeing 
the  magazine  monthly.  The  class  column  in  the  magazine 
is  in  effect  a  miniature  monthly  report  and  pleasantly  sup- 
plements the  larger  yearly  report. 

Think  it  over,  fellows.  Then  send  your  order  to  the 
Dartmouth  Alumni  Magazine,  Hanover,  N.  H. 


252 


THE  '99  CLASS  FUND 

The  new  Class  Fund  Committee  contains  four  names: 
T.  A.  Lynch,  Chairman  and  Class  Agent  as  before 
A.  M.  Abbott,  new  member 
O.  A.  Hoban,  new  member 
W.  B.  Hodgkins,  continuing  member 

The  record  by  years  so  far  in  the  $10,000  campaign 
is  as  follows : 

1914-15  39  contributors  Total  $    571.00 

1915-16  47             "  "  646.50 

1916-17  38             "  "  500.50 

1917-18  79             "  1,501.50 

1918-19  46             "  "  554.00 


$3773-50 

85  different  contributors 
{22  gave  once;  16,  twice;  14,  three  times;  11,  four 
times;  22,  five  times.) 

Total  men  not  yet  contributing  40 

Total  amount  remaining  to  be  contributed       $6,226.50 
Time  remaining  5  years 

Average  amount  necessary  to  raise  each  year  $1,245.30 

Get  behind  the  Committee! 


253 


ROUND-UP  1919— BOSTON  CITY  CLUB 


Those  present :  Drew,  J.  B.  Walker,  Johnston,  F.  A. 
Walker,  Beal,  Kendall,  Barney,  Eaton,  Eastman,  W.  R.,  Ho- 
ban,  Donahue,  Allen,  Sleeper,  Osgood,  W.  B.  Adams, 
Huckins,  Currier,  Sears,  H.  A.  Miller,  Hawkes,  Rogers, 
Hobbs,  Heywood,  Skinner,  N.  P.  Brown,  J.  L.  Sanborn, 
Irving,  Evans,  Clark,  Parker.  (30) 

Place :  Room   B,  8th  floor,  Boston  City   Club.     $2.00 
apiece    for   the   dinner;    cigars,    cigarettes,   and   toothpicks 
extra. 
Toasts :  K.  Beal,  toastmaster 


'99   in   Washington 

Supplying  the  Army  with  Books 

'01   Felicitates 

Reunion  Plans 

High   Cost   of    Living.      See   later" 

note ! 
Transporting    Soldiers ;    especially 
disembarkation  of  Canadian  sol- 
diers at  Portland 
The    Mid-European   Union;    illus- 
trated by  maps  later  distributed  to 
class  individually. 
The  Secretary's  Portfolio. 
'"99",  a  new  song  to  the  tune  of 
Madelon    by    C.    H.    Donahue. 
Later   printed   in    the   Vicennial 
Song  Book. 
Irving  French,  J.  Ward,  B.  Kimball,  '01,  were  having 
an  executive  committee  meeting  of  the  class  of  '01  at  the 
club  that  night  and  came  up  to  visit.     Kimball  responded 
when  called  upon  to  speak  and  kept  the  crowd  laughing 
over    some    felicitous    remarks.      Kendall   came    on    from 


Kendall 

Evans 

Kimball 

Barney 

Johnston 

Eastman,  W.  R. 


Miller,  H.  A. 


Clark 

Adams,   W.   B. 


254 


Washington,  Miller  happened  to  be  in  New  York  at  the 
time  and  recognizing  it  was  the  first  Saturday  in  March 
telegraphed  over  to  see  if  the  Round-Up  was  taking  place 
as  usual  and  upon  a  wired  affirmative  came  over.  H.  H. 
Sears  and  Sanborn  came  from  New  Haven;  Heywood  and 
Skinner  came  from  Worcester  way ;  Parker  and  Johnston 
from  Manchester  and  J.  B.  Walker  from  Lee. 

Note  on  Bob  Johnston's  talk :  There  is  some  disagree- 
ment as  to  what  Bob  actually  said,  but  this  is  what  an 
anonymous  program  maker  suggested  he  might  say  on  his 
topic  of  the  "High  Cost  of  Living." 

"Will  present  tabulations  of  figures  drawn  from  Gov- 
ernmental authorities,  showing  comparative  prices  of  peas, 
cauliflower,  rum,  oats  and  chewing  tobacco,  every  decade 
from  the  time  of  the  adoption  of  the  Federal  Constitution 
in  1789  to  date.  Will  analyze  the  effect  on  the  quality  of 
booze,  due  to  each  of  the  successive  taxes  imposed.  Will 
plunge  into  gloom  and  prophesy  what  will  happen  after 
July  1,  1919." 

Two  months  after  the  Round-Up  there  was  another 
Dartmouth  '99  affair  at  the  City  Club, — at  least  it  was 
in  charge  of  Jim  Barney  as  Vice-President  of  the  Dartmouth 
Club,  K.  Beal  presided,  Win  Adams  sang  his  illustrated 
song  "Arcady,"  and  George  Clark  gave  a  talk  on  college 
life  with  emphasis  on  Outing  Club  hikes  and  the  winter 
carnival  illustrated  by  lantern  slides  and  movie  reels,  The 
occasion  was  called  a  "Sons  of  Members  Night"  and  drew 
out  about  four  or  five  hundred  Dartmouth  men  with  their 
own  sons  or  sons  of  friends  to  be  reminded  why  boys  do 
well  to  go  to  Dartmouth. 

Walter  Lillard  '07,  Principal  of  Tabor  Academy, 
Marion,  Mass.,  spoke  on  "What  a  Boy  Gains  by  Going  to 
Hanover" ;  Dean  Laycock  and  President  Hopkins  both 
spoke  very  effectively,  and  with  the  help  of  some  printed 
song  books  there  was  a  lot  of  good  lusty  singing. 


255 


Perhaps  this  night  had  a  little  to  do  with  the  record 
breaking  freshman  class  the  next  fall.  At  any  rate  Jim, 
now  President  of  the  Boston  Dartmouth  Club,  says  he  is 
going  to  have  such  an  evening  annually. 


France,  November  30,  19 18. 

RECORD  OF  CO.  A,   102nd  FIELD  BATTALION,  U. 

S.  ARMY,  FORMERLY  CO.  A,  1st  BATTALION 

SIGNAL  CORPS,  N.G.,  N.Y. 

,BY  HERBERT  L.  WATSON,  CAPTAIN 
COMMANDING 


This  Company  together  with  the  Battalion  of  which 
it  was  a  part,  the  whole  consisting  of  Battalion  Headquar- 
ters and  Companies  A,  B  and  C,  was  called  into  active  ser- 
vice July  16,  1917,  under  the  call  of  the  President  of  July  3, 
1917. 

The  whole  organization  was  mustered  into  Federal  Ser- 
vice July  21,  1917,  and  was  drafted  into  federal  service 
August  5,  191 7. 

All  the  officers  of  the  Battalion  accepted  new  commis- 
sions in  the  same  grade  under  the  draft  of  August  5,  1917. 

On  September  11,  1917,  the  complete  Battalion  was 
moved  from  the  Armories  to  Spartanburg,  S.  C,  when  they 
went  into  Camp  Wadsworth,  arriving  there  September  14, 
1917. 

During  the  next  eight  months  the  training  consisted  of 
all  manner  of  military  work  pertaining  to  our  general  and 
special  duties. 

Picked  men  were  sent  to  Officers  Training  School, 
other  men  were  sent  to  Enlisted  Men's  Training  Schools 
such  as  Cooks,  Horseshoers,  Physical,  Motor  Transport, 
Supply,  Bayonet  and  Gas. 


256 


During  this  same  period  there  were  operating  under 
direction  of  the  Division  Signal  Officer  Schools  of  Elec- 
tricity, Signalling/Telegraphy,  Telephony  and  Cipher  Codes 
for  the  members  of  the  Battalion  together  with  special  details 
of  Officers  and  non-commissioned  officers  of  the  Regimental 
Signal  Platoons  under  officers  and  men  of  the  Signal  Bat- 
talion. 

In  November  special  impetus  was  given  to  our  signal 
instruction  due  to  the  arrival  of  2nd  Lieutenant  Charles  J. 
Smith  and  Sergeant  Grand  direct  from  the  French  Army 
front. 

Lieutenant  Smith  gave  us  first  hand  information  as  to 
conditions  and  how  best  to  meet  them. 

The  men  of  this  Company  had  daily  work  as  to  buzzer 
and  radio  instruments,  and  during  the  rifle  range  work  of 
the  Division  we  operated  a  radio  station  at  the  Division 
Headquarters,  a  station  at  the  range  approximately  thirty 
miles  distant,  and  one  intermediate  station. 

Communications  were  kept  up  at  all  times  and  until 
nearly  the  end  of  the  range  work  the  wireless  was  the  only 
means  of  communication  since  there  was  no  telephone  and 
roads  were  almost  impassable. 

The  pack  sets  were  used  for  this  work  until  a  2  K.  W. 
tractor  set  was  furnished  and  used  at  Division  station. 

The  Battalion  left  Camp  Wadsworth  on  May  10,  1918, 
for  Newport  News,  Virginia. 

Here  the  men  were  fully  equipped  with  ordnance  and 
quartermaster  property  and  the  signal  property  to  be  fur- 
nished in  the  U.  S. 

Early  morning  of  May  17th,  found  the  Battalion  on  the 
move  from  barracks  to  the  wharves  of  Newport  News 
where  we  all  embarked  on  the  Pocahontas,  formerly  the 
German  steamer  Princess  Irene. 

Our  boat  was  anchored  in  Hampton  Roads  for  twenty- 
four  hours  waiting  the  loading  of  the  other  ships  of  the  con- 


257 


voy,  but  finally  the  home  waters  were  cleared  on  May  18, 
19 1 8,  and  the  voyage  across  the  Atlantic  was  begun. 

The  convoy  contained  eight  merchant  vessels  led  by  an 
American  cruiser  and  further  guarded  by  four  torpedo  des- 
troyers. 

During  the  first  day  out,  wireless  notice  was  received 
of  the  appearance  of  submarines  in  a  comparatively  nearby 
portion  of  the  ocean  and  from  that  time  on  every  one  was 
required  to  wear  or  have  close  to  him  the  cumbersome  life 
belt,  both  while  awake  and  asleep. 

Submarine  guards  and  lookouts  of  soldiers  were  con- 
stantly on  duty  in  addition  to  the  ship's  crew. 

Daily  drills  were  held  both  for  fire  discipline  and  for 
abandon  ship,  in  case  of  accident. 

The  first  exciting  event  was  a  midday  report  from  the 
masthead  of  the  appearance  of  a  "sub"  slightly  off  the  star- 
board bow  of  our  ship  and  near  the  horizon. 

Cruisers  and  destroyers  immediately  increased  speed 
and  investigated,  while  the  convoy  proceeded  without  change 
of  course. 

The  object  which  was  passed  by  us  on  our  starboard 
side  within  one  hundred  feet,  proved  to  be  an  overturned 
lifeboat. 

The  next  exciting  event  proved  to  be  real  enough  for 
during  daylight  a  submarine  periscope  appeared  above  the 
surface  of  the  water  in  the  middle  of  the  fleet  about  midway 
between  our  ship  and  the  one  next  to  starboard. 

The  alarm  was  sounded  and  all  ships  with  possible 
ranges  opened  fire,  one  shell  barely  missing  the  bow  of  our 
ship  as  it  ricochetted. 

All  ships  immediately  changed  their  courses  away  from 
the  "Sub."  The  most  surprising  thing  was  the  quick  turn- 
ing and  great  speed  of  the  submarine  destroyers  which  dart- 
ed directly  toward  the  spot  where  the  submerged  "Sub"  had 
been  and  dropped  several  depthbombs. 


258 


Later  that  day  one  of  the  destroyers  which  had  re- 
mained behind  to  investigate  reported  that  sufficient  evi- 
dence had  been  found  to  warrant  the  belief  that  the  "Sub" 
had  been  sunk. 

Several  days  before  reaching  land  seven  more  destroy- 
ers joined  the  convoy  and  our  cruiser  turned  about  to  return 
to  home  waters. 

Just  before  sighting  land  the  lookouts  sighted  two 
"Subs"  a  long  distance  off  to  starboard  and  gave  chase.  We 
had  a  fine  view  of  Navy  work  and  none  of  our  ships  were 
troubled.  We  afterwards  heard  that  one  of  the  "Subs" 
had  surely  been  sunk. 

Land  was  sighted  early  one  day  and  we  all  had  a  good 
sunset  view  of  cliffs  and  harbors  and  rivers  as  we  sailed 
into  the  port  of  St.  Nazaire,  France,  on  May  30,  1918. 

We  were  given  an  enthusiastic  welcome  as  we  passed 
through  the  locks  to  the  wharf  to  which  we  tied  up  for  the 
night. 

Throughout  the  voyage,  with  the  exception  of  one 
rainy  day  and  comparatively  rough  water  for  two  days,  the 
weather  was  clear  and  the  ocean  was  as  smooth  as  an  in- 
land lake. 

Actual  debarkation  began  in  the  early  morning  of  May 
31,  19 18,  and  we  were  marched  through  the  City  to  a  rest 
camp  several  kilometers  outside  of  the  City  limits. 

At  St.  Nazaire  three  days  were  spent  in  rest  and  in  re- 
ceiving some  new  equipment  and  an  early  morning  start 
was  made  for  the  railroad  yard  in  the  City  on  June  4,  1918. 

Here  the  men  became  acquainted  with  the  "40  Hommes 
— 8  Chevaux"  freight  cars  which  were  to  be  their  means  of 
transport  many  times  thereafter.  Thirty-six  men  were 
placed  in  each  car  with  three  days'  rations  and  the  officers 
in  three  compartment  coaches  which  had  at  some  very  dis- 
tant past  period  been  called  first  class  cars. 

Our  train  route  was  through  Nantes,  Le  Mons,  Laigle, 
Rouen,    thence   to   the   coast   of    Noyelles    sur   Mer   since 

259 


Amiens  was  too  close  to  the  battle  line  for  trains  to  pass 
that  way. 

The  troops  detrained  at  Noyelles  about  2  A.  M.  June  6, 
191 8,  and  after  a  short  sleep  and  an  early  breakfast  were 
taken  to  a  salvage  point  near  the  tracks  where  they  were 
ordered  to  divest  themselves  of  all  extra  clothing  and  equip- 
ment which  they  had  brought  from  the  States,  leaving  only 
the  uniform  on  the  person,  an  extra  change  of  underwear, 
flannel  shirt  and  socks,  together  with  the  personal  signal 
equipment  then  issued  and  personal  toilet  articles. 

That  same  day  march  was  taken  up  for  Nouvion,  each 
man  carrying  all  his  remaining  possessions  on  his  back. 

A  stop  was  made  for  the  night  in  an  empty  British 
Camp  and  march  was  resumed  next  morning  for  St.  Riquier, 
arriving  about  noon  of  June  7,  191 8. 

Here  at  St.  Riquier  the  men  began  their  existence  in 
billets,  same  being  sheds,  barns,  lofts  and  any  other  place 
furnishing  shelter,  but  not  in  people's  houses.  Officers  were 
given  vacant  furnished  rooms  in  houses. 

For  eleven  days  both  physical  and  mental  training  was 
carried  out  to  the  limits  of  equipment  and  opportunity. 

Here  also  the  members  of  the  Battalion  received  their 
first  knowledge  of  actual  modern  warfare,  for  we  had  two 
visits  of  German  bombing  planes,  although  the  bombs  were 
really  dropped  in  the  neighboring  town  of  Abbeville.  The 
sound  of  these  machines  in  the  air  was  thoroughly  fixed  in 
the  men's  minds  for  future  use. 

From  St.  Riquier  on  June  18th  march  was  taken  up 
for  Fressenville,  21  miles  away,  and  completed  in  one  day 
under  full  pack. 

June  2 1st  found  the  organization  again  on  the  march 
back  over  the  same  route  as  the  previous  march,  only  this 
time  the  march  ended  in  billets  at  Port  le  Grande,  only 
about  10  miles  away. 

The  next  day  march  was  resumed  to  Gd.  Laviers,  about 
two  miles  off,  where  the  whole  Battalion  was  loaded  on 

260 


lorries  (British  name  for  motor  truck)  and  taken  back 
through  Abbeville  and  St.  Riquier  and  beyond  to  Beauval, 
which  was  reached  that  same  day. 

While  in  Beauval,  the  American  radio  equipment  was 
issued.  This  was  of  a  modified  French  type.  During  our 
stay  here  training  was  kept  up  with  the  new  instruments. 
The  training  was  much  retarded  for  we  had  positive  orders 
to  use  low  aerials  and  but  very  little  power  and  to  send  mes- 
sages only  in  code  because  of  German  listening  stations. 

While  at  Beauval,  German  planes  were  over  nightly 
and  one  night  dropped  four  bombs,  one  of  which  landed 
in  center  of  the  picket  line  killing  eleven  animals,  but  miss- 
ing all  men. 

On  July  2nd  our  Battalion  moved  out  of  Beauval  to 
R.  R.  Station  at  Candas  and  thence  by  rail  to  Arques  where 
we  detrained  and  marched  to  Nieurval  reaching  that  camp 
after  dark  July  3rd. 

July  4th  was  celebrated  as  a  holiday  with  a  limited 
number  of  passes  allowed  to  the  neighboring  city  of  St. 
Omer. 

About  July  14th  German  airplanes  passed  over  this 
place  and  dropped  several  bombs  one  of  which  struck  and 
wrecked  the  building  which  had  been  occupied  by  our  Bat- 
talion Headquarters. 

On  July  7th  the  Battalion  was  again  on  the  move  to 
Oudezeele,  Belgium,  which  was  reached  in  the  afternoon. 

At  this  station  began  our  real  training  for  front  line 
duty.  We  were  in  a  British  sector  and  directly  under  control 
of  the  British  XIX  Corps. 

On  our  arrival  the  Radio  Officer  of  the  XIX  Corps  vis- 
ited our  Company  and  inspected  our  radio  equipment.  His 
verdict  was  that  the  American-French  instruments  would 
not  work  at  all  in  the  British  Sector  and  gave  me  an  order 
on  his  store  keeper  for  two  complete  sets  of  their  501  watt 
field  equipment.  Later  the  number  of  501  watt  sets  was  in- 
creased to  six  and  a  Wilson  150  Watt  set  with  Mark  III 
receiver  and  amplifier  added. 


261 


The  XIX  Corps  also  detailed  a  Corporal  and  a  Sapper 
as  our  instructors  and  with  the  above  equipment  instruction 
began  in  earnest.  Our  N.  C.  Q.'s  and  operators  were  first 
given  instruction  under  the  Corporal  in  use  of  instruments 
and  codes  together  with  English  procedure  while  others 
studied  telegraphy,  visual  procedure  and  physical  training. 
As  soon  as  the  N.-  C.  O.'s  were  competent  the  training  of 
all  others  began  covering  the  same  ground. 

When  competent  the  Corps  sent  operators  to  Corps 
Headquarters  stations  and  to  the  station  in  the  front  line 
held  by  the  6th  and  41st  Divisions  (British)  for  actual  ex- 
perience in  operating  under  war  conditions.  These  Divi- 
sions held  the  front  before  Mt.  Kimmel  from  Schpenburg 
Hill  and  north  towards  Poperinghe. ' 

These  details  were  changed  every  five  and  six  days 
until  all  operators  and  N.  C.  O.'s  had  had  one  or  more  turns 
in  each  class  of  work.  The  Company  Officers  each  had  a 
three  day  tour  at  the  front,  the  writer  being  at  the  41st  Divi- 
sion at  and  around  Schpenburg  from  July  16  to  19,  1918. 

As  our  men  became  capable  as  instructors  details  of 
eight  of  the  best  operators  from  the  signal  platoons  of  the 
four  infantry  regiments  of  the  Division  were  added  to  our 
Company  for  instruction. 

About  July  17th  nineteen  of  our  fair  to  medium  opera- 
tors were  sent  to  the  XIX  Corps  school  at  Volkerinckhove 
for  two  weeks'  course  of  instruction. 

All  Radio  work  here  was  as  at  Beauval  under  control  of 
the  British  and  the  opportunities  for  sending  were  limited 
but  the  air  was  so  full  of  signals  that  all  got  practice  in  re- 
ceiving. 

Use  was  made  of  the  French  "E  3"  set  to  give  practice 
in  continuous  wave  radio  work  since  the  British  Artillery 
were  using  this  exclusively.  The  wave  lengths  used  were 
450  for  spark  sets  and  1220  for  C.  W.  sets. 

Our  main  station  was  manned  continuously  but  no 
official  use  was  made  of  it  except  for  two  official  test  mes- 
sages daily  and  on  the  (British  "wireless  days"  when  all 


262 


other  means  of  communication  were  supposed  to  be  cut. 
First  Class  Sergeants  Robert  T:  Battle  and  Donald  R.  Cath- 
cart  were  transferred  to  Headquarters  Army  Candidates' 
School  on  July  24,  1918. 

On  August  23,  1918,  our  Division  and  the  Battalion 
moved  forward  and  relieved  the  6th  British  Division  in  the 
Dickiebusch  Sector.  This  Company  assumed  charge  of  the 
Radio  situation  and  direction  of  the  heavy  artillery  radio 
which  remained  in  position. 

The  main  directing  station  was  at  Division  Headquar- 
ters at  Douglass  Camp  south  of  Poperinghe  and  three  miles 
northwest  of  Abeel.  A  new  station  was  opened  at  53rd 
Brigade  Headquarters  (a  location  not  before  used  by  the 
British)  and  at  a  point  one-half  a  mile  northwest  of  Ouder- 
dom  on  Poperinghe-Ouderdom  road,  and  another  in  Abeel 
.  at  54th  Brigade  Headquarters  which  Brigade  was  in  re- 
serve. These  three  stations  were  manned  by  members  of  this 
Company. 

A  station  was  taken  over  at  what  became  headquarters 
of  the  105th  Regiment  one  mile  south  west  of  Reninghelst 
the  left  Regiment  in  line  but  the  location  of  the  headquar- 
ters of  the  106th  Regiment  1000  yards  south  east  of  Ou- 
derdom  (the  right  regiment  in  line)  was  so  directly  under 
observation  from  Mt.  Kimmel  that  the  Regimental  Com- 
mander would  not  allow  the  opening  of  a  station.  The 
107th  and  1 08th  Regiments  (reserve)  had  listening  stations 
only  except  under  emergency  orders.  The  105th  Regiment 
Headquarters  and  Radio  Station  did  not  move  forward  after 
the  successful  drive  of  our  troops  beyond  Dickiebusch  Lake. 

Each  of  these  regimental  stations  was  operated  by  regi- 
mental signal  platoon  operators  assisted  in  each  case  by 
an  operator  from  this  Company. 

Due  mostly  to  lack  of  actual  responsibility  for  work 
under  fire  the  success  of  the  radio  in  this  action  could  only 
be  considered  as  fair.  Messages  were  more  or  less  slow  in 
transmission  but  the  German  jamming  sets  were  partly  re- 
sponsible for  this  as  these  men  had  not  learned  how  to  work 
through  it. 

263 


The  165th  Regiment  station  had  its  antennae  brought 
down  twice  by  shell  fire  and  the  53rd  Brigade  station  had 
the  same  experience  once.  The  Brigade  instrument  broke 
down  and  had  to  be  replaced. 

The  greatest  trouble  was  experienced  over  the  storage 
battery  situation.  Batteries  were  delivered  daily  by  the 
Company  for  both  radio  and  power  buzzer  work  but  it 
seemed  next  to  impossible  to  get  the  regimental  signallers 
to  return  the  "duds"  for  recharging. 

The  Battalion  men  were  all  finally  relieved  by  early 
morning  of  September  3,  1918,  and  immediately  left  Camp 
Douglas  and  vicinity  and  marched  back  to  Oudezeele  where 
camps  for  the  night  were  made  on  sites  originally  occupied. 

Next  day,  September  4,  191 8,  we  marched  back  over 
the  same  road  as  far  as  Watou  thence  on  to  Proven  north  of 
Poperinghe  where  we  were  entrained  on  wide  gauge  road 
for  Candas  from  which  station  we  started  our  original  trip 
to  Belgium. 

Candas  was  reached  in  P.  M.  September  5,  1918.  All 
detrained  and  marched  through  Beauval  to  Beauquesne, 
the  next  town  beyond,  for  a  period  of  rest  and  refitting  of 
all  kinds.     In  most  cases  good  billets  were  obtained  here. 

Division  Headquarters  were  located  in  a  chateau  about 
a  mile  out  of  town  and  there  a  listening  station  was  estab- 
lished for  daily  press  and  time  signals  from  Eiffel  Tower 
and  anything  else  of  interest  as  the  town  was  cut  off  from 
Corps  and  Army  Headquarters. 

The  British  sets  could  not  be  used  directly  to  get  this 
Eiffel  Tower  news  but  after  considerable  experimenting  by 
our  MSE,  with  home  made  inductance  and  capacity  success 
was  attained. 

The  usual  drills  and  practice  were  carried  out  here  to 
keep  the  men  in  shape. 

Just  before  leaving  this  town,  complete  sets  of  in- 
struments and  a  personnel  of  six  men  were  sent  to  each 
Brigade  headquarters  and  instruments  to  each  regiment  to 
be  moved  forward  with  these  organizations. 


264 


On  September  22  our  MSE.  James  C.  Randall  was 
transferred  to  and  appointed  to  Army  Signal  School  (Can- 
didates). 

The  Battalion  entrained  September  24  for  Tincourt, 
en  route  for  Driencourt  in  the  support  area  for  the  LeCa- 
telot  sector. 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  making  the  trip  with  Division 
Signal  Officer  in  his  car. 

We  passed  through  several  towns  which  had  been  the 
center  of  No  Man's  Land  since  early  war  days  and  now 
were  complete  wrecks,  notably  Albert  and  Peronne.  Our 
car  reached  Driencourt  in  afternoon  of  day  we  started, 
but  the  Battalion  did  not  arrive  until  next  day,  September 
25. 

The  Division  station  was  immediately  established  and 
full  preparations  made  to  take  over  control  from  the  Brit- 
ish at  midnight  September  25-26. 

Fresh  batteries  were  sent  forward  for  all  stations  as 
soon  as  darkness  fell  that  night. 

It  should  be  noted  here  that  our  Division  took  over  the 
front  occupied  by  two  entire  British  Divisions,  viz.,  the  18th 
and  74th. 

The  53rd  Brigade  station  was  established  in  a  quarry 
about  600  yards  north  of  St.  Emilie  and  the  105th  and  106th 
Regiment  Headquarters  within  500  yards  of  each  other  in 
the  town  of  Ronssoy.  These  Headquarters  were  so  near  to- 
gether that  only  the  106th  Regiment  station  was  in  opera- 
tion. 

September  27,  19 18,  the  regiment  pushed  forward  and 
headquarters  also  and  the  53rd  and  54th  Brigade  Headquar- 
ters occupied  the  dugouts  where  Regimental  Headquarters 
had  been.  The  54th  Signal  station  personnel  took  over  the 
radio  station  and  worked  for  both  Brigades. 

The  Division  control  station  also  moved  forward  to 
the  quarry   where   53rd   Brigade   Headquarters   had  been. 


265 


The  next  day  the  remainder  of  the  Company  moved  to  the 
quarry. 

On  night  of  September  29-30  the  107th  and  108th 
Regiment  had  passed  through  the  105th  and  106th  Regi- 
ments. A  shell  struck  the  building  where  the  108th  station 
was  located  wrecking  the  instruments  and  the  107th  set 
had  been  broken  down.  Both  sets  were  replaced  using  those 
of  the  106th  Regiment,  53rd  Brigade,  but  only  the  107th 
set  was  operated  after  the  change. 

The  Division  control  station  was  in  constant  communi- 
cation with  Second  American  Corps  Headquarters,  the  30th 
American  Division  control  and  other  stations,  one  Brigade 
station  and  spasmodically  with  the  107th  advance  station 
during  this  action. 

Few  messages  were  sent  via'  radio  except  to  Second 
Corps  because  of  the  successful  operation  of  the  telephone 
and  buzzerphones  to  the  forward  headquarters.  Many  re- 
ports were  handed  to  Corps  Headquarters  because  of  lack 
of  wire  communications. 

During  this  action  five  men  of  this  Company  together 
with  Captain  Rosser  of  Co.  .B  were  badly  gassed  while  help- 
ing to  maintain  the  jB  Company  wire  lines.  These  men  were 
1st  Class  Sergeants  Redlefsen  and  Hoey,  Corporal  Coleman 
and  1st  Class  Privates  Everett  and  Lydamore.  It  should/ 
be  noted  here  that  on  September  29  the  105th  and  106th 
had  given  battle  to  the  opposing  forces  and  had  advanced 
to  their  objectives  through  determined  resistance. 

September  29-30  the  107th  and  108th  passed  through 
and  on  the  30th  broke  down  the  resistance  of  the  vaunted 
Hindenburg  line  and  passed  far  beyond  the  St.  Quentin 
canal. 

On  October  1  an  Australian  Division  relieved  this  Divi- 
sion and  the  next  day  this  Company,  less  its  Brigade  and 
Regimental  personnel,  returned  to  Driencourt  via  road. 
Here  we  refitted  with  radio  and  other  equipment. 

On  October  9,  1918,  began  a  series  of  marches  in  an 


266 


endeavor  to  catch  up  with  the  righting  line.  Leaving  Drien- 
court  early  we  reached  Hervilly  at  10.30  a.  m.  and  avail- 
able billets  were  being  secured  when  we  suddenly  received 
marching  orders  and  left  at  4.30  p.  m.  with  the  full  batta- 
lion and  horse  drawn  transport. 

While  daylight  lasted  we  traveled  over  comparatively 
good  roads  but  with  a  night  of  pitch  black  darkness  the 
condition  of  the  road  changed.  The  route  was  from  Her- 
villy via  Villeret  and  Bellecourt  to  Nauroy.  After  crossing 
the  road  bewteen  Jeancourt  and  Hargicourt  we  passed  over 
a  fourth  class  road  which  had  been  thoroughly  shelled  both 
in  the  road  and  on  all  sides.  Here  the  transport  was  con- 
stantly getting  stuck  in  the  road  and  it  was  not  until  11.15 
p.  m.  that  Nauroy  was  reached  after  traveling  about  12 
miles.  Camp  was  made  in  an  open  field  without  aid  of  lights. 

Next  day,  October  10,  the  Battalion  marched  to  Jon- 
court  reaching  there  before  noon.  Left  Joncourt  at  4.30 
p.  m.  and  reached  Brancourt  at  7.30  p.  m.  again  camping  in 
an  open  field.  In  the  morning  there  were  found  in  the  field 
three  dead  Germans,  one  Englishman  and  a  dead  Tennessee 
officer.  The  roads  and  fields  had  been  strewn  with  dead 
Germans  and  horses  for  the  last  two  days'  march. 

October  1 1  march  was  resumed  at  8.00  a.  m.  from  Bran- 
court  and  Premont  reached  at  11.30  a.  m.  The  two  main 
roads  north  and  east  from  Premont  had  been  mined  and 
fired,  leaving  inverted  core  shaped  holes  40  feet  deeo  and 
80  to  90  feet  across  the  top.  We  obtained  a  two  days'  rest 
at  Premont  leaving  there  at  1.30  p.  m.  October  13  for  Bu- 
signey  which  was  reached  at  4.30  p.  m.  We  were  greeted 
on  arrival  with  a  heavy  shelling,  the  first  shell  to  drop  land- 
ing in  the  center  of  the  court-yard  of  the  Chateau  into  which 
division  headquarters  was  then  moving.  Five  people  were 
injured  including  an  Officer  talking  to  our  Major  who  was 
uninjured.  The  engine  of  the  Signal  Corps  lighting  lorry 
and  several  motor  cycles  were  damaged. 

The  Division  control  station  was  quickly  set  up  by 
taking  over  the  installation  provided  the  previous  day  by 


267 


one  of  the  Brigade  sections.  The  Signal  Corps  outpost  and 
Regimental  platoons  were  at  this  time  so  badly  cut  up  as 
regards  operators  that  this  Company  had  to  assume  the 
entire  radio  operation  for  the  coming  battle.  Details  were 
arranged  to  operate  one  Brigade  station  since  both  Brigades' 
Headquarters  were  to  be  in  the  same  town,  one  Regimental 
station  as  all  regimental  headquarters  were  to  be  grouped 
in  the  next  town  and  two  sections  for  forward  regimental 
stations  with  advanced  Battalion  Headquarters.  The  Re- 
gimental Headquarters  were  established  in  Escaufort  Oc- 
tober 13  without  radio  stations.  Brigade  station  was  located 
at  Escaufort  October  16.  During  the  evening  of  October 
16  this  town  was  severely  shelled  with  H.  E.  and  gas.  The 
station  was  established  without  accident. 

The  entire  personnel  in  the  building  next  door  to  our 
Radio  station,  establishing  the  telephone  switchboard,  be- 
came gas  casualties.  Captain  Callaway  was  one  of  those 
gassed.  The  regimental  station  was  set  up  at  St.  Souplet 
on  the  banks  of  the  Selle  River  in  early  morning  of  October 
17,  1918.  The  Germans  had  been  driven  across  the  river 
scarcely  an  hour  when  Regimental  Headquarters  and  the 
radio  stations  were  established.  The  advanced  regimental 
stations  followed  the  Battalion  Headquarters  of  the  leading 
battalions. 

While  advancing  with  the  107th  Battalion  Sergeant 
Macdonald  of  this  Company  was  injured  in  seven  places 
by  a  bursting  shell  and  1st  Class  Private  Scharrenbeck  was 
gassed  seriously.  However  the  station  was  set  up  by  the  re- 
mainder of  the  section  at  Baudival  Farm  where  it  remained 
as  a  relay  point  throughout  the  action.  Sergeant  Smith 
and  1st  Class  Private  Stanley  were  sent  forward  to  re- 
enforce  the  section. 

The  station  of  the  105th  battalion  was  first  at  Abre 
Guernon.  Report  came  to  me  at  St.  Souplet  that  Sergeant 
Pangburn  had  been  injured  and  instruments  destroyed. 
Pangburn's  injury  proved  to  be  such  that  he  was  able  to 
walk  to  a  dressing  station.     Before  learning  of  this  I  had 


268 


sent  ist  Class  Sergeant  Heart  and  Corporal  Roquet  for- 
ward with  a  complete  set  to  cover  any  requirements.  As 
the  105th  advanced  the  station  was  moved  to  Jonc  de  Mer 
Farm  where  it  remained  for  the  rest  of  the  action. 

On  the  night  of  the  17th  after  the  Germans  were  pushed 
back  from  the  Selle  River  a  load  of  wire  was  sent  forward 
in  a  lorry  with  English  drivers.  They  were  afraid  to  cross 
the  river  and  threw  all  the  wire  off  on  the  west  side.  They 
reported  to  me  for  help  and  I  sent  them  back  with  Chauf- 
feur Cooksley  and  ist  Class  Private  R.  J.  Walsh.  The 
drivers  carried  a  few  reels  across  and  when  shelling  started 
they  jumped  aboard  their  lorry  and  disappeared.  Cooksley 
and  Walsh  finished  the  work  but  the  last  wire  was  carried 
over  after  a  gas  shelling  and  the  next  day  these  men  had  to 
be  sent  to  the  hospital. 

Our  advanced  radio  stations  were  relieved  during  the 
night  of  October  20-21  and  I  closed  the  St.  Souplet  station 
at  9.15  a.  m.  October  21  and  shortly  after  closed  the  Es- 
caufort  station  and  marched  with  all  men  from  stations  back 
to  Busigny. 

The  best  of  radio  communications  between  all  stations 
was  had  at  all  times  October  16  to  20  except  that  only  oc- 
casionally on  October  17  could  we  work  with  Division  sta- 
tion on  account  of  interference. 

Our  advanced  regimental  station  was  in  excellent  com- 
munication with  the  Divisional  control  station  seven  miles 
away.  This  advanced  105th  Regiment  station  was  located 
in  a  house  but  a  short  time  previously  occupied  by  a  Ger- 
man station  and  in  fact  our  station  made  use  of  the  German 
antennae  which  was  found  to  be  set  in  the  right  direction 
for  our  use.  But  very  little  use  was  made  of  wireless  com- 
munication because  of  the  good  telephone  service  and  be- 
cause our  officers  could  not  get  the  officials,  for  whose  use 
the  stations  were  established,  to  write  messages  They  all 
wished  to  talk  to  their  correspondents  directly. 

This  last  battle  proved  to  be  the  most  disastrous  to  Co. 


269 


A  of  any  others,  not  from  wounds  but  sickness  and  acci- 
dents. 

Shortly  after  reaching  Busigney  before  noon  of  Oc- 
tober 21  our  Surgeon  sent  to  hospital  Cook  Hoffman,  sick, 
and  ist  Class  Private  Rogers  accidentally  shot  by  an  Aus- 
tralian who  was  handling  a  captured  German  pistol.  On  the 
25th  1  st  Class  Sergeant  Osgood,  Sergeants  Rushmore  and 
Heep,  Corporal  Irwin,  ist  Class  Privates  Squires,  Stanley 
and  Wyckoff  and  Private  McCabe  together  with  the  writer 
went  to  the  hospital  with  influenza.  On  this  date  also  Cor- 
poral Coleman  and  ist  Class  Private  Mickens  returned  to 
duty  from  the  hospital.  On  the  next  day  ist  Class  Private 
Rose  and  Privates  Fox,  G.  F.  Walsh  and  Laplace  went  to 
hospital  from  the  same  cause. 

The  Company  moved  from  Busigney  October  22  to 
Mauroy  and  bivouacked,  Nauroy  to  Roisel  October  23 
where  we  were  to  entrain  next  day.  During  the  early  fore- 
noon of  October  24  a  German  mine  under  crossing  of  high- 
way and  railroad  blew  up  after  more  than  a  month's  de- 
layed action.  The  mine  caused  a  complete  blockade  of  rail- 
road which  made  it  necessary  for  Battalion  to  march  to  Tin- 
court  in  evening  of  the  24th.  All  entrained  in  early  morn- 
ing of  October  25  and  reached  rest  area  at  Corbie,  Somme, 
in  late  afternoon.  The  writer  was  taken  from  the  train  to 
an  ambulance  and  then  to  hospital  No.  41  in  Amiens  and 
thus  lost  connection  with  his  Company  for  the  next  twenty- 
six  days.  Second  Lieutenant  Frank  C.  Davern  assumed 
command  which  he  held  until  November  15.  Captain  Cal- 
laway was  assigned  to  this  Company  November  15  and  re- 
lieved November  20. 

The  Company  on  November  11,  the  date  of  signing  of 
the  Armistice,  was  still  in  Corbie  under  continued  training 
and  refitting  for  the  next  action.  The  Company  moved  from 
Corbie  to  Pont  de  Gennes  near  Le  Mons  on  November  24, 
reaching  new  station  next  day  and  are  still  there  on  this 
date.    The  Company  had  no  men  killed  in  action  and  only 


270 


two  wounded  as  noted  above  but  four  deaths  resulted  from 
influenza  and  pneumonia,  namely  ist  Class  Sergeant  Harold 
S.  Osgood,  Corp.  James  C.  Irwin,  Privates  D.  M.  Fox  and 
William  M.  McCabe. 

Note  should  be  taken  that  this  organization,  always 
with  the  Battalion,  never  served  with  the  American  Army 
but  was  first  attached  to  the  Second  British  Army  in  Bel- 
gium. Our  Division,  the  27th  American,  was  associated  with 
the  30th  American  Division  to  form  the  Second  American 
Corps  and  we  fought  as  such  throughout  our  service.  On 
leaving  Belgium  we  became  attached  to  the  Third  British 
Army  during  the  service  in  the  Le  Catelet  Sector.  Then  we 
were  moved  to  the  Fourth  British  Army  for  the  St.  Souplet 
battle.  During  all  of  this  service  we  came  under  a  British 
ruling  which  forbade  all  radio  stations  using  the  sending  side 
of  the  sets  unless  actually  holding  the  front  lines.  When  a 
relieving  organization  passed  through  our  lines  we  had  to 
cease  all  sending.  This  ruling  caused  the  loss  of  much  valu- 
able radio  instruction  while  in  back  areas  for  rest  and  train- 
ing. Our  men  had  scarcely  any  acquaintance  with  the 
American-French  radio  instruments  except  for  about  a 
week's  instruction  while  at  Beauval  and  therefore  no  real 
comparison  can  be  made  between  those  and  the  British  sets. 
We  know  that  the  |British  sets  as  equipped  with  carborun- 
dum detectors  and  poten  tiaometers  were  a  failure  with  us 
but  by  using  their  step  amplifiers,  issued  with  the  American 
sets,  as  both  detector  and  amplifier  we  had  good  results. 

(Signed)  Herbert  L.  Watson, 

Captain,  Signal  Corps,  U.  S.  A. 

Commanding. 


271 


HERBERT   COE   COLLAR 

Whenever  I  think  of  Herbert  Collar  my  mind  photo- 
graphs a  scene  on  a  beautiful  afternoon  in  May,  1897.  I  am 
sitting  in  the  grandstand  of  the  Worcester  Oval  at  the  New 
England  Intercollegiate  Meet.  Beside  me  is  the  charming 
girl  destined  later  to  become  Mrs.  Collar.  Dartmouth  is 
competing,  for  the  first  time  in  years,  without  the  great 
Stephen  Chase.  Can  we  win?  The  race  is  hot  between 
Brown  and  Dartmouth.  Comes  the  "four-forty,"  one  of  the 
last  events.  Brown  pins  her  hopes  on  Taft,  but  the  top- 
heavy  favorite  is  Elliot  of  Amherst,  already  winner  of  the 
furlong  dash,  and  Collar's  cousin.  Dartmouth  trusts  in 
Collar,  an  unknown  quantity.  The  race  is  on;  true  to  form, 
Elliot,  running  beautifully,  soon  assumes  what  looks  to  be  a 
safe  lead.  The  half — the  three-quarters  mark  is  reached — 
when  look !  What's  happening  ?  Out  of  the  bunch,  with  a 
spring  and  drive  as  easy  and  graceful  as  a  greyhound  un- 
leashed, flashes  a  contender. 

Rapidly  he  cuts  down  the  lead.  Can  it  be — by  Heav- 
ens, it  is  Collar !  The  girl  by  my  side  is  tense  and  beautiful 
in  her  excited  pride.  As  they  swing  into  the  stretch,  he  chal- 
lenges, passes,  the  faltering  Elliot.  Taft,  too,  passes  Elliot, 
but  the  wearer  of  the  green,  with  as  sustained  and  beautiful 
a  sprint  as  I  have  ever  seen,  draws  away  from  both,  and 
finishes  a  comfortable  winner  in  51  4-5  seconds;  remarkable 
time  for  that  day  and  that  track.  The  final  tally  gives  Dart- 
mouth 29;  Brown  26,  the  almost  unknown  Sophomore  had 
won  the  meet  for  Dartmouth!  Such  was  Collar,  the  ath- 
lete, in  his  true  form.  Unfortunately,  his  weak  digestion 
impaired  his  strength,  and  so  Dartmouth  lost  for  the  most 
part  the  services  of  one  of  the  best  natural  runners  who 
ever  trod  the  cinders  of  the  Oval.  But  that  one  day  made 
his  fame  secure  in  Dartmouth  annals. 

I  have  been  going  over  all  our  Class  reports  to  visualize 
his  life  since  '99.  A  continuous  struggle  against  ill-health ; 
a  constant  devotion  to  the  finer  things  in  life,  especially 

272 


George   J.    Prescott 


;'<;:  *r"fa 


Herbert  C.  Collar 


Herb  Wins  Quarter 
Worcester    Meet 


Charles   A.   Folsom 


books  and  music ;  glimpses  of  an  ideal  home,  made  even 
sweeter  in  these  later  years  by  the  two  children ;  an  enforced 
absence  from  the  reunions  of  the  class  and  college  which 
he  loved;  an  ever-growing  sweetness  and  strength  of  mind 
and  spirit ;  and  during  the  last  five  years  at  Buffalo,  a  very 
evident  increase  in  comfort  and  happiness ;  such  is  the  wit- 
ness which  they  bear  to  the  shadow  and  sunshine  that  were 
his. 

Few  of  us  saw  him  since  he  left  Boston  in  1908,  driven 
from  the  city  by  the  ill-health  which  so  constantly  pursued 
him;  but  in  spite  of  this,  his  letters  show  that  he  constantly 
drew  nearer  to  us  in  spirit ;  and  it  is  a  significant  and  touch- 
ing thing  that  one  of  his  last  acts  in  life  was  to  fill  out  his 
class  reply  card,  making  known  his  intention  to  be  present 
at  the  reunion  last  June.  It  was  found  in  his  pocket  by  Mrs. 
Collar,  and  sent  by  her  to  George  Clark.  What  man  among 
our  number  would  have  more  thoroughly  appreciated  the  de- 
lights of  those  wonderfuJ  days,  and  the  sight  of  the  college 
in  its  new  beauty  and  strength !  But  it  was  not  to  be.  He 
was  cut  down  just  when  he  seemed  to  have  surmounted  the 
rough  and  steep  ascents  of  life,  and  to  have  his  feet  planted 
firmly  on  a  smoother  and  sunnier  road.  Such  things  are  hard 
to  understand. 

But  the  great  inspiration  he  has  left  us  is  the  fine  spirit 
of  cheerfulness  and  courage  which  never  deserted  him,  and 
which,  though  he  never  knew  it,  has  more  than  once 
strengthened  and  helped  me ;  and  so,  no  doubt,  with  others. 

The  words  of  the  prophet,  of  which  Dr.  Tucker  is  so 
fond,  might  well  serve  as  his  epitaph : 

"What  doth  the  Lord  require  of  thee,  but  to  do  justly, 
and  to  love  mercy,  and  to  walk  humbly  with  thy  God  ?" 

James  P.  Richardson. 


273 


GEORGE  JAMES  PRESCOTT 


Born  November  7,  1875;  married  Frances  Marie  Sar- 
gent of  Maiden  April  11,  1906;  buried  in  the  Country 
Cemetery  just  outside  the  village  of  Meredith,  New  Hamp- 
shire, as  a  clear  warm  November  sun  was  waning  over 
the  brown  hills,  November  16,  1919.  Such  are  the  punc- 
tuation points  in  a  clear  onward  and  upward  progressing 
Hfe. 

Some  one  wrote : 

"Born,  married,   buried 
And  life's  events 
May  then  be  hurried 
Between  these   rents." 

So  it  sometimes  seems  in  retrospect,  nevertheless  we 
love  to  gather  up  the  intervening  detail,  as  with  George,  to 
give  the  "last  picture"  its  tone  and  being.  His  was  a  record 
terse  like  himself.  Born  in  Meredith,  educated  in  its  schools 
and  at  New  Hampton  Institute,  he  entered  Dartmouth  in 
1895  and  received  the  degree  of  |B.  L.  with  the  class  of  nine- 
ty-nine. He  came  with  Ted  Child  from  New  Hampton,  he 
stayed  with  Ted  in  Reed  Hall  until  Richardson  was  built, 
whither  they  moved,  and  was  graduated.  Always  well 
groomed,  always  genial,  always  given  to  his  courses  rather 
than  extra  curriculum  things,  there  was  the  even  and  one  pur- 
posed tenor  to  his  way  through  college  that  continued  through 
post  collegiate  days,  the  clerkship  with  the  Western  Electric 
Company  at  Chicago  1899  to  1901,  the  apprenticeship  with 
the  Boston  Rubber  Shoe  Company  at  Maiden  'oi  to  '04,  the 
assistant  purchasing  agency  of  the  United  States  Rubber 
Company  in  New  York  City,  '04  to  '17.  It  was  a  steady 
growing  progression.  When  the  war  broke  out  he  was 
buying  all  the  supplies  other  than  the  crude  rubber  needed 
by  the  company,  millions  of  yards  of  sheeting,  tons  of  lith- 
ard,  quantities  of  lumber  for  boxes  and  the  many  other 
things  required  to  keep  the  twenty  odd  plans  of  the  com- 
pany going.     Under  the  war  conditions  the  strain  became 

274 


too  severe.  His  health  gave  out  and  in  1917  he  was  given 
a  six  months'  leave  of  absence.  He  retired  to  Spring  Lake, 
N.  Y.,  and  tried  fishing  and  the  outdoors.  Later  he  took  his 
family  up  to  the  old  house  at  Meredith  and  in  the  fall  set- 
tled down  in  Maiden.  Not  growing  better  he  tried  a  sani- 
tarium for  part  of  the  winter  and  again  in  the  summer  of 
1918  went  to  stay  at  the  old  house  at  Meredith.  He  con- 
tinued living  quietly  there,  motoring  about  now  and  then  a 
little.  A  severe  paralytic  shock  came  to  him  this  fall  and 
about  two  weeks  later,  on  the  afternoon  of  November  13th, 
he  passed  away,  leaving  his  wife  and  one  son,  Allen,  aged 
eleven,  and  his  father  and  mother,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  J.  I.  Pres- 
cott  of  Meredith,  and  his  brother,  Dr.  Charles  Prescott, 
Dartmouth  '02.  His  Ninety-Nine  classmates  and  all  who 
knew  him  sympathize  with  them  and  mourn  the  race  well 
run  but  unfinished. 

The  picture  of  him  sitting  between  Bill  Wason  and 
"N.  P."  Brown  in  the  photograph  of  that  remarkable  '"99 
delegation"  of  the  Kappa  Kappa  Kappa  fraternity,  with 
which  Ninety-Nine  is  familiar,  his  legs  crossed,  body  erect, 
his  right  -arm  resting  on  the  half  turned  back  of  the  chair, 
his  keen  cut  and  alert  oval  face,  with  its  strong  mouth  and 
clear  eyes  looking  straight  at  you,  springs  into  vision.  He 
is  there  the  center  of  a  remarkable  group,  remarkable  as 
the  only  freshman  fraternity  delegation  in  '99  and  probably 
in  its  generation  that  remained  intact  through  college,  be- 
ing graduated  as  it  entered,  remarkable  for  the  marked 
distinction  of  the  achievement  of  each  individual  of  the 
group  in  later  life.  George  Prescott's  position  of  a  kind  of 
keystone  in  this  freshman  group  wfas  well  maintained 
throughout  the  later  years.  He  was  first  and  only  a  business 
man,  but  with  the  finer  qualities  of  gentlemanliness  accom- 
panying. His  gardening  confession  in  the  1915  report  to 
"a  shelf  of  cyclamen,  red  geraniums  and  pure  white  paper 
narcissus,  the  last  like  a  bit  of  clean  New  Hampshire  snow 
drifted  in  onto  the  greenery  and  snuggled  up  against  my 
apartment  window-panes"  suggested  that  the  poetry  of  the 


275 


Northern  Hills  was  there  too.  His  is  Death's  first  pluck- 
ing in  this  remarkable  group.  It  seems  to  take  the  heart 
right  out  of  it. 


DR.  CHARLES  ALBERT  FOLSOM 


It  is  unnecessary,  except  as  a  record  of  our  apprecia- 
tion of  Mun,  to  write  anything  in  regard  to  his  life  and 
achievements.  He  was  too  well  known  and  loved,  not 
alone  by  all  of  his  class,  but  by  men  of  all  classes  who 
knew  him  in  college,  to  have  his  memory  fade  during  their 
lifetime.  It  seems  but  yesterday  that  we  cheered  his  plays 
on  the  baseball  diamond  and  proudly  said  to  ourselves,  he 
is  one  of  our  class,  old  '99. 

After  graduation  Mun  continued  his  studies  at  the 
college  in  the  Medical  School,  then  came  to  Manchester, 
N.  H.,  as  intern  at  the  Sacred  Heart  Hospital,  making 
friends  and  delivering  the  goods,  as  he  always  had  at  col- 
lege. At  the  completion  of  his  service  at  the  hospital  he 
took  offices  in  the  city  and  was  closely  associated  with  the 
late  James  Brown,  Dartmouth  '92.  These  offices  he  con- 
tinued to  hold  until,  on  account  of  declining  health,  he  was 
obliged  to  abandon  practice. 

During  the  time  he  practiced  in  Manchester  he  held 
many  positions  of  responsibility.  He  was  for  several 
years  physician  and  surgeon  to  the  Hillsborough  County 
Hospital,  also  surgeon  to  Manchester  Police  Relief  As- 
sociation, and  was  a  member  of  the  staff  of  the  Sacred 
Heart  Hospital. 

In  June,  1915  he  was  united  in  marriage  to  Miss  Mary 
E.  Cronin  of  Manchester,  a  graduate  of  the  Sacred  Heart 
Hospital.  Her  faithful  companionship  during  Mun's  years 
of  forced  retirement  gives  a  touch  of  brightness  to  those 
last  days. 

276 


During  his  practice  here  Mun  was,  as  in  college,  modest 
and  unassuming,  even  to  the  point  of  reticence.  He  was 
loved  and  respected  by  all  who  knew  him  and  possessed 
the  qualities  of  the  true  physician.  The  thought  of  self 
or  recompense  was  always  secondary.  It  was  his  delight 
to  be  able  to  render  aid  and  comfort,  as  he  expressed  it, 
to  God's  poor,  and  this  he  did  ungrudgingly  until  he  was 
obliged  to  give  up  on  account  of  his  health. 

He  seemed  to  find  his  chief  pleasure  in  the  pursuit 
of  his  profession  and  the  society  of  a  few  close  friends. 
He  was  a  great  lover  of  nature  and  when  his  health  failed 
he  went  to  live  on  the  old  homestead  in  West  Epping, 
where  he  seemed  to  derive  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  from 
his  productive  garden,  his  animals  and  the  general  care  of 
the  farm.  This  interest  went  a  long  way  toward  alleviat- 
ing the  worry  over  his  physical  ills  and  the  disappointment 
of  not  being  able  to  continue  his  chosen  profession. 

Although  we  knew  he  was  far  from  well,  his  death  on 
December  12,  1919,  came  as  a  great  shock,  as  reports  had 
been  coming  in  that  he  was  progressively  improving. 

In  his  death  '99  has  lost  a  loyal  classmate,  a  staunch 
friend,  an  able  and  upright  man. 

David  W.  Parker. 


277 


EXECUTIVE   COMMITTEE 

J.  L.  Barney,  Treas.,  3  Arundel  Park,  Dorchester,  Mass. 
P.  F.  Drew,  53  State  Street,  Boston,  Mass. 
K.  Beal,  Class  Secretary,  55  Botolph  Street,  Melrose 
Highlands.,  Mass. 

E,  W.  Barstow,  Ex-Secretary,  197  Marion  Street, 
Springfield,  Mass. 

C.  H.  Donahue,  Ex-Secretary,  18  Tremont  Street,  Bos- 
ton, Mass. 

G.  G.  Clark,  Ex-Secretary,  6o  State  Street,  Boston, 
Mass. 


CLASS  FUND  COMMITTEE 


T.  A.  Lynch,  Agent,  17  Alban  Street,  Dorchester,  Mass. 
A.  M.  Abbott,   i   Myrtle  Ave.,  Plainfield,  N.  J. 
O.  A.  Hoban,  65  Graham  Street,  Gardner,  Mass. 
W.  B.  Hodgkins,  Phoenix,  Arizona. 

ADDRESSES 

Alson  Morgan  Abbott,  Stockbroker 

Bus:  c/o  Paine  Webber  Co.,  25  Broad  St.,  New  York 

Res :  1  Myrtle  Ave.,  Plainfield,  N.  J. 
Arthur  Jackson  Abbott,  Painter  and  Decorator 

Bus:  50-56  Manchester  St.,  Manchester,  N.  H. 

Res :  788  Chestnut  St.,  Manchester,  N.  H. 
Ernest  Albert  Abbott,  Securities  Examiner 

Bus :  %  Federal  Farm  Loan  Board 

6th  Floor,  Bond  Bldg.,  Washington,  D.  C. 
Charles  Ezra  Adams,  Bookkeeper 

Bus :  c/o  Guernsey  Bros.  Co.,  16  Church  St.,  Keene, 
N.  H. 

Res :  145  Court  St.,  Keene,  N.  H. 


278 


Winburn  Bowdoin  Adams,  Salesman 

Bus :  Atwood  Auto  Lamp  Co.,  683  Beacon  St.,  Boston 

Res :  457  Columbia  Rd.,  Dorchester 
Edwin  Lawrence  Allen,  Chemist 

Bus :  The  Daggett   Chocolate   Co.,   35   Lewis   Wharf, 
Boston 

Res:  16  Woodland  St.,  Arlington,  Mass. 
K.  Asakawa,  Asst.  Prof,  and  Curator,  Yale  Univ. 

1 141  Yale  Station,  New  Haven,  Conn. 
John  William  Ash,  Civil  Engineer  and  Contractor 

611  S.  2nd  St.,  Corvallis,  Ore. 

William  Thompson  Atwood,  Lawyer 
Bus :  60  State  St.,  (Boston 
Res :  70  E,  Emerson  St.,  Melrose,  Mass. 

Herbert  Myron  Bailey,  Builder 

Bus :  Springfield,  Mass. 

Res :  547  Riverdale  St.,  W.  Springfield,  Mass. 
Edward  Grout  Baldwin 
James  Leonard  Barney,  Secretary  of  Pope  Lumber  Co. 

Bus :     c/o     Pope     Lumber     Co.,     210     Freeport     St., 
Dorchester,   Mass. 

Res :  3  Arundel  Park,  Dorchester,  Mass. 
Elmer  Williams  Barstow,  Principal 

Bus :  Burrows  Grammar  School,  Springfield,  Mass. 

Res:  197  Marion  St.,  Springfield 
Kenneth  Beal,  Teacher 

Bus :  Mechanic  Arts  High  School,  Boston,  Mass. 

Res:   55   Botolph  St.,   Melrose  Hlds.,   Mass. 
Louis  Paul  Benezet,  Supt.  of  Schools,  Evansville,  Ind. 

Res :  806  Riverside  Ave.,  Evansville,  Ind. 
Henry  John  Berger,  Editor 

Bus:  c/o  Lockwood   Trade  Journal,    10  E.   39th   St., 
New  York  City 

Res :  561  W.  152nd  St.,  New  York  City 


279 


Charles  Walter  Bonney,  Physician 

Bus:  1 1 17  Spruce  St.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Res :  927  Clinton  St.,  Philadelphia 
Albert  Warren  Boston,  Principal 

Bus :  Caribou  High  School,  Caribou,  Me. 
Arthur  Hayward  Brown,  Automobiles 

Erie,  Pa. 
Nelson  Pierce  Brown,  Judge  of  Superior  Corn  of  Mass. 

Bus :  Court  House,  Boston,  Mass. 

Res :  186  Linden  St.,  Everett,  Mass. 
Samuel  Burns,  Jr.,  Investment  Securities 

Bus :  c/o  Burns,  Brinker  &  Co.,  S.  W.  Corner  17th 
and  Douglas  Streets,  Ground  Floor,  Brandeis 
Theatre  Bldg.,   Omaha,  Neb. 

Res :  430  South  40th  St.,  Omaha 
Homer  Stephen  Carr,  Physician 

210  Broadway,  Niles,  Mich. 
Philip  Worcester  Carson,  Real  Estate 

Perm.  Address :  Randolph,  N.  Y. 
Major  Frank  William  Cavanaugh, 

Res :  144  Chandler  St.,  Worcester,  Mass. 
Hawley  Barnard  Chase,  Principal 

Bus :  Franklin  Grammar  School,  Stamford,  Conn. 

Res  :  213  Summer  St.,  Stamford 
Theodore  Woolsey  Chase,  President 

Bus :  Passumpsic  Fibre  Leather  Co.,  Passumpsic,  Vt. 

Res :  14  Church  St.,  St.  Johnsbury,  Vt. 
Sergt.  James  Dwight  Child 

%  American  Consul's  Office,  Alle  Tourney,  Bordeaux, 
France 
George  Gallup  Clark,  Lawyer 

Bus :  60  State  St.,  Boston 

Res:  71  Mt.  Vernon  St.,  Boston,  and  R.  F.  D.  1,  Ply- 
mouth, N.  H. 
Thomas  Cogswell,  Actor 

241  West  43rd  St.,  New  York  Citj 

Perm.  Address:  Plainfield,  Vt. 


280 


William   Joseph    Colbert,    ex-Dean    College    Liberal   Arts, 
Univ.   of   Philippines 
Res:  677  Dennett  St.,  Portsmouth,  N.  H. 

Herbert  Coe  Collar,  Deceased 
Guy  Edminston  Corey,  Lawyer 

Bus :  73  Congress  St.,  Portsmouth,  N.  H. 

Res :  464  Middle  St.,  Portsmouth 
Robert  Edward  Croker,  Bookkeeper 

Res:  419  Broad  St.,  E.  Weymouth,  Mass. 
Frederick  Joseph  Crolius,  Asst.  Engineer 

Bus :  c/o  Carnegie  Steel  Co.,  Munhall,  Pa. 
Charles  Newton  Currier,  Foreman 

Bus :  c/o  Gray  &  Davis,  Inc.,  Amesbury,  Mass. 

Res  :  Box  57,  Amesbury 
Charles  Elliot  Cushman,  Pnysician 

Bus:  Suite  32,  Auditorium  Bldg.,  Chicago,  111. 

Res :  Illinois  Athletic  Club,  Chicago 
Her*y  Hale  Dearborn,  Physician 

Res:  25   Nashua  St.,  Milford,  N.  H. 
Jesse  Judson  Dearborn,  Deceased 

Maurice  Woodbury  Dickey,  News  Editor 

Bus :  c/o    Springfield    Morning    Union,     Springfield, 
Mass. 

Res:  116  Princeton  St.,  Springfield 
Charles  Henry  Donahue,  Lawyer 

Bus :  18  Tremont  St.,  Boston 

Res  :  10  Centervale  Park,  Dorchester 
Percy  Greenough  Drake,  Medical  Director 

Bus :  c/o  Germania  Life  Ins.  Co.,  50  Union  Sq.,  New 
York  City 

Res :  790  Riverside  Drive,  New  York  City 
Pitt  Fessenden  Drew,  Lawyer 

Bus :  53  State  St.,  Boston,  Mass. 

Res :  2.y  Grove  Hill  Ave.,  Newtonville,  Mass. 


281 


John  Henry  DuBois,  Insurance 

Pus:  i  Main  St.,  Randolph,  Vt. 
Earl  Eastman,  Deceased 

Walter  Roy  Eastman,  Gen.  Passenger  Agt.,  Central  Vt.  & 
Grand  Trunk  Rys. 

Bus:  510  Old  South  Bldg.,  ,Boston 

Res :  24  Botolph  St.,  Melrose  Hlds.,  Mass. 
William  Francis  Eaton,  Sporting  Editor 

Bus:  Geo.  Batten  Adv.  Co.,  Room  11 19,  381   Fourth 
Ave.,  New  York  City 

Perm.  Address:  24  Pearl  St.,  Medford,  Mass. 
George  Hill  Evans,  Librarian 

Bus :  Somerville  Public  Library,   Somerville,  Mass. 

Res:  11  Park  Aye.,  Somerville,  Mass. 
Charles  Albert  Folsom,  Deceased 
Daniel  Ford,  Asst.  Prof,  of  Rhetoric 

Bus :  c/o  University  of  Minnesota,  Minneapolis,  Minn. 

Res:   113  State  St.,  Minneapolis,  Minn. 
Walter  Andrew  Foss 
Harold  Oscar  French,  Chief  Clerk 

Bus :  c/o  Fairbanks  Scale  Co.,  St.  Johnsbury,  Vt. 

Res :  14  Summer  St.,  St.  Johnsbury,  Vt. 
Montie  John   Baker  Fuller,  Clergyman 

Res:  New  Marlboro,  Mass. 
Albert  Leet  Galusha,  Manufacturer  Gas  Producers 

Bus:  11  Elkins  St.,  South  poston,  Mass. 

Res :  Box  457,  Sharon,  Mass. 

Joseph  William  Gannon,  President  and  Manager 

Bus :   J.   W.    Gannon,   Inc.,   Advertising   Agency,   220 

Fifth  Avenue,  New  York  City 
Res:  405  Park  St.,  Montclair,  N.  J. 

Capt.  Gordon  Hall  Gerould,  Prof.  English,  Princeton  Univ. 
Res:  341   Nassau  St.,  Princeton,  N.  J. 


282 


Albert  Henry  Greenwood,   Consulting  Engineer 

Bus :  Greenwood  &  Noerr,  847  Main   St.,   Hartford, 
Conn. 

Res :  588  Broadview  Terrace,  Hartford 
Everett  Vinton  Hardwick,  Physician 

Res:  43  Algonquin  St.,  Dorchester,  Mass. 
Joseph  Henry  Hartley,  Clerk 

Res:  423  Elm  St.,  Arlington,  N.  J. 
Ralph  Wilson  Hawkes,  President 

Bus :  c/o  Holbrook  Mills  Co.,  Millbury,  Mass. 
Augustine  Ledru  Heywood,  Draftsman 

Bus :  American  Steel  &  Wire  Co.,  Worcester,  Mass. 

Res:  10  Oread  St.,  Worcester 
Owen  Albert  Hoban,  Lawyer 

Bus :  Gardner  Nat.  Bank  Block,  Gardner,  Mass. 

Res :  65  Graham  St.,  Gardner 
Joseph  Wilson  Hobbs,  Teacher  of  English 

Bus :  Boston  Latin  School,  Boston 

Res:  16  Glenville  Ave.,  Allston,  Mass. 
Willis  Bradlee  Hodgkins,   Proprietor  Hotel 

Washington  Hotel,  Phoenix,  Arizona 

P.O.   Box  1008,  Phoenix,  Arizona 
Arthur  Warren  Hopkins,  Physician 

West  Swanzey,  N.  H. 
Neal  Luther  Hoskins,  Physician 

Bus:  641-65  David  Whitney  Bldg.,  Detroit,  Mich. 

Res:  135  Monterey  St.,  Detroit,  Mich. 
George  Laurie  Huckins,  Asst.  Engineer 

Bus :  B.  &  M.  R.  R.,  Room  304,  North  Station,  Boston 

Res :  106  Walton  Park,  Melrose  Highlands 
William  Loveland  Hutchinson,  Farming 

Cecil,  Washington  Co.,  Pa. 
Edwin  Arnold  Hyatt,  Physician 

Bus :  5  Maiden  Lane,  St.  Albans,  Vt. 

Res:  29  Bank  St.,  St.  Albans,  Vt. 


2S3 


Arthur  Pearl  Irving,  Furniture 

Bus :  Irving  &  Casson,  573  BoyLston  St.,  Boston,  Mass. 

Res :   1  Warwick  Place,  Winchester 
Robert  Philbrick  Johnston,  Vice-President 

Bus :  Stratton  &  Co.,  Concord,  N.  H. 
Wesley  William  Jordan 

Res :  The  Magnolia,  Beacon,  N.  Y.,  P.  O.  Box  H,  Bea- 
con, N.  Y. 
Clarence  Lovell  Joy,  Principal 

Pus  :  Hartford  High  School,  Hartford,  Vt. 

Res :  Maple  St.,  White  River  Jet.,  Vt. 
Warren  Cleaveland  Kendall,  Manager  Car  Service  Section, 
Transportation  U.  S.  R.  R.  Adm. 

Bus:  718  1 8th  St.,  Washington,  D.  C. 

Res :  1800  Lamont  St.,  Washington,  D.  C. 
Arthur  Elwin  Kimball 

1 199  Stevenson  Ave.,  Pasadena,  Cal. 
Harold  Bruce  Kirk,  Traveling  Salesman 

Bus :  c/o  Universal  Portland  Cement  Co.,  208  So.  La 
Salle  St.,  Chicago 
Peter  Henry  Lane,  Physician 

Bus:  218  So.  16th  St.,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Res :  186  Bethlehem  Pike,  Chestnut  Hill,  Philadelphia, 
Pa. 
Alvin  Benton  Leavitt,  Dentist 

435  Fort  Washington  Ave.,  New  York  City 
Fred  Ford  Locke,  Asst.,  Planning  Dept. 

Bus :  U.  S.  Navy  Yard,  Portsmouth,  N.  H. 

Res :  Kittery,  Me. 
Theobald  Andrew  Lynch,  Sub-Master 

Bus :  Bigelow  Grammar  School,  So.  Boston,  Mass. 

Res:  17  Alban  St.,  Dorchester,  Mass. 

Herbert  Leslie  Lyster,  Mgr.  of  Creamery 
Bus :  Wells  River,  Vt. 


284 


Leon  Alonzo  Martin 

Perm.  Address:  c/o  Mrs.  L.  A.  Martin,  Unity,  Me. 
Charles  Oscar  Miller,  Sec.  and  Treas. 

Bus :  C.  O.  Miller  Co.,  Atlantic  Sq.,  Stamford,  Conn. 

Res :  Revonah  Manor,  Stamford,  Conn. 
Herbert  Adolphus  Miller,  Professor  of  Sociology,  Oberlin 
Univ. 

Res:  124  Morgan  St.,  Oberlin,  O. 
Frank  Abbott  Musgrove,  Proprietor  Dart.  Press 

Hanover,  N.  H. 
Arthur  Henry  Whitely  Norton,  Bookkeeper 

Bus  :  Frost  Nat.  <Bank,  San  Antonio,  Texas 

Res:  R.  F.  D.  1,  Box  12  D,  San  Antonio,  Texas 
Edward  Lucius  Nye,  Insurance 

Bus:   407    Chamber    of   Commerce    Bldg.,    Rochester, 
New  York. 
Luther  Stevens  Oakes,  Contractor,  Winston  Bros. 

Bus :  801  Globe  Bldg.,  Minneapolis,  Minn. 

Res :  417  Holly  Ave.,  St.  Paul,  Minn. 
Paul  Moody  Osgood,  Chemist 

Bus :  North    Packing    &    Provision    Co.,    Somerville, 
Mass.,  Box  5247 

Res:  Hotel  Woodbridge,  Somerville 
William  Daniel  O'Sullivan,  Auto  Accessories 

Res :  340  Haverhill  St.,  Lawrence,  Mass. 
Capt.  David  Woodbury  Parker,  Physician 

Bus :  967  Elm  St.,  Manchester,  N.  H. 

Res :  52  Charles  St.,  Manchester 
Ralph  Wheelwright  Payne,  Prop.  Drug  Store 

Greenfield,  Mass. 
Raymond  Pearl,  Professor,  Johns  Hopkins  Univ. 

Bus:  Baltimore,  Md. 
George  James  Prescott,  Deceased 
Herbert  Wood  Rice,  Farming 

Henniker,  N.  H. 


285 


James  Parmelee  Richardson,  Prof,  of  Law,  Dartmouth 

.   Res  :  Choate  Rd.,  Hanover,  N.  H. 
Charles  Ingraham  Risley 

Racine  Rubber  Tire  Co. 

Bus:  10  Central  Park,  West,  New  York  City 

Res  :  Pleasantville,  N.  Y. 
Herbert  Spencer  Rogers,  Commercial  Representative 

Bus:  N.  E.  Tel.  &  Tel.  Co.,  119  Milk  St.,  Boston,  Mass. 

Res :  53  Thurston  Rd.,  Newton  Upper  Falls 
George  Munroe  Rounds,  Social  Investigator,  Ford  Motor 
Co. 

Res:   107  Hancock  Ave.,  West,  Detroit,  Mich. 
Robert  Gordon  Rowe,  Supt.  Labor 

Bus :  U.  S.  Navy  Yard,  Portsmouth,  N.  H. 

Res  :  536  Middle  Rd. 
Maj.   Frederic  Rodney   Sanborn 

Perm.  Address :  341  W.  85  St.,  New  York  City 
John  Leonard  Sanborn,  Supt.  of  Construction,  N.  Y.,  N.  H 
&  H.  R.  R. 

Res :  146  Water  St.,  New  Haven,  Conn. 
Moses  Motley  Sargent,  Investment  Securities 

Res:  731  County  St.,  New  Bedford,  Mass. 
Horace  Holmes  Sears,  Civil  Engineer,  N.  Y  ,  N.  H.  &  H. 
R.  R. 

Bus :  89  Liberty  St.,  New  York 

Res :  404  Union  St.,  W.  Haven,  Conn. 
Maj.  Millard  Freeman  Sewall,  Physician 

195  E.  Commerce  St.,  Bridgeton,  N.  J. 
Ernest  Leroy  Silver,  Principal  Plymouth  Normal   School. 

Plymouth,  N.  H. 
Edward  Raymond  Skinner,  Division  Supt.'s  Assistant 

Bus:  American  Optical  Co.,  Southbridge,  Mass. 

Res :  19  Marcy  St.  Ext.,  Southbridge 
Alvah  Guy  Sleeper,  Lawyer 

Bus :  1045  Tremont  Bldg.,  Boston 

Res :  174  Morrison  Ave.,  Somerville 

286 


Samuel  Justin  Smith,  Civil  Engineer 

Bus :  c/o  Woodbury  Service,   Inc.,  Room  2233,  Park 
Row  Bldg,  New  York 

Perm.  Address :  Windsor,  Vt. 
Guy  Edwin  Speare,  Supt.  of  Schools,  Littleton  and  Bethle- 
hem, N.  H. 

Res:  Littleton,  N.  H. 
Frank  Clarence  Staley,  War  Risk  Bureau  of  Treas.  Dept. 

Bus:  The  Portner,  15th  &  U  Sts.,  Washington,  D.  C. 
Adna  David  Storrs,  Mgr.  Book  Store 

Hanover,  N.  H. 
Charles  Chase  Sturtevant,  Bookkeeper 

Bus :  Keene  Nat.  Bank,  Keene,  N.  H. 

Res:  112  Washington  St.,  Keene,  N.  H. 
Frank  Miller  Surrey,  Teacher 

Bus :  Morris  High  School,  New  York  City 

Res :  593  Riverside  Drive,  New  York  City 
Howard    Murray   Tibbetts,    Registrar    Dartmouth    College 

Hanover,  N.  H. 
Albert  Ballard  Tootell,  Teaching 

Bus :  Great  Falls  High  School,  Great  Falls,  Montana 

Perm.   Address :   Simms,   Montana 
Lucius  Everett  Varney,  Patent  Lawyer 

Bus :   149  Broadway,  New  York  City 

Res :  44  W.  44th  St.,  New  York  City 
James  Brackett  Creighton  Walker,  Lumbering 

Lee,  N.  H. 
Fred  Austin  Walker,  Lawyer 

Bus :  340  Main  St.,  Worcester,  Mass. 

Res :  29  ShafTner  St.,  Worcester 
Edward  Beaumond  Wardle,  Chief  Engineer,  Laurentide  Co., 
Ltd. 

Grand  Mere,  P.  Q.,  Canada 
Harry  Alexander  Wason,  Southern  Sales  Mgr. 

Bus :  J.  A.  Roebling  Sons  Co.,  Atlanta,  Ga.,  Box  924 

Res:  70  St.  Charles  Ave.,  Atlanta 


287 


Capt.  Herbert  Leslie  Watson,  Civil  Engineer 

Bus :  c/o  George  F.  Hardy,  309  Broadway,  New  York 
Present    Location:    Manistique    Pulp    and  Paper  Co., 

Manistique,  Mich. 
Perm.  Address:  1307  Boulevard,  New  Haven,  Conn. 

Thomas  Tupper  Whittier,  Civil  Engineer 
Bus:  309  Broadway,  New  York  City 
Res :  30  Sidney  Place,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

Arthur  Dean  Wiggin,  Supt.  of  Schools,  Windham  No' west 
Dist. 
So.  Londonderry,  Vt. 

Harley    Richard    Willard,    Prof.    Mathematics,    Univ.    of 
Maine 

Orono,  Maine 
Philip  Harold  Winchester,  Division  Engineer 

St.  Lawrence  Division,  N.  Y.  C.  &  H.  R.  R.  R. 

Res:  303  Ten  Eyck  St.,  Watertown,  N.  Y. 
Leon    E.    Woodman,    Prof.    Physics,    Univ.    of    Missouri 
(School  of  Mines  and  Metallurgy) 

Res :  Rolla,  Missouri 
Walter  Carleton  Woodward,  Physician 

,Bus:  702-7  Cobb  Bldg.,  Seattle,  Wash. 

Res:  724  17th  St.,  No.,  Seattle 


288 


THE    DARTMOUTH 
SESQUI  -  CENTENNIAL 


TO  WHICH 


THE  '99  VICENNIAL 


WAS 


THE  CURTAIN  RAISER 


THE  SESQUI-CENTENNIAL  SEEN  THROUGH  '99  EYES 


"Little  of  all  we  value  here   . 

Wakes  on  the  m'orn  of  its  hundredth  year 

Without   both   feeling  and  looking  queer ; 
^  ^  *  *  * 

A  general  flavor  of  mild  decay, 
Put  nothing  local  as  one  may  say." 
But  these  symptoms  of  senility  and  approaching  disso- 
lution we  assume  to  be  outgrown  if  by  good  fortune  or  by 
native  virility  or  by  extraordinary  care  the  subject  in  ques- 
tion survives  its  hundredth  birthday  and  so  with  a  painful 
indifference  to  poetic  precedent  tucks  on  another  half  cen- 
tury to  its  accumulated  age.  At  any  rate,  whatever  the 
nature  of  storm  and  wind  that  caused  a  partial  collapse  of 
the  shelter  provided  in  1869  for  Dartmouth's  hundredth 
anniversary,  it  was  but  a  flurry  of  the  elements  and  utterly 
unable  to  disrupt  that  which  was  more  elemental  than  it- 
self,— namely,  Dartmouth  College. 

And  surely  those  of  us  who  were  fortunate  enough  to 
return  to  Hanover  in  October  for  part  of  the  Sesqui-Cen- 
tennial  celebration,  were  aware  only  of  immense  growth, 
the  full  vigor  of  mature  life,  and  the  evident  signs  on  every 
hand  of  an  incalculable  development  ahead. 

The  noon  train  from  Boston  was  met  at  Lebanon  by  a 
troop  of  twenty  autos  under  the  hospitable  direction  of  the 
Lebanon  Chamber  of  Commerce.  By  this  means  a  portion 
of  the  returning  alumni,  the  '99  secretary  and  ex-secretary 
among  them,  were  comfortably  and  speedily  swept  under 
clear  New  Hampshire  skies  and  beneath  leafless  or  bril- 
liantly yellow-foliaged  trees  over  the  five  mile  road  into 
Hanover.  Main  Street  was  alive  with  bareheaded  upper 
classmen,  and  Freshmen  obediently  covered  with  the  pre- 

291 


scribed  green  skull  cap  with  its  white  dot  of  a  button, 
while  alumni  autos  parked  up  and  down  both  south  and 
west  sides  of  the  Campus,  or  swerved  and  darted  on  every 
side  of  the  solitary  but  desperately  efficient  traffic  cop  by 
the  Inn. 

Here  is  Jim  Richardson  in  professional  conference  at 
the  Campus  edge,  but  with  time  for  a  friendly  greeting, 
and  here  at  the  book  store,  Dave.  Over  there  on  the  south- 
eastern corner  of  the  Campus  is  one  of  the  great  Ringling 
Brothers'  circus  tents,  rising  like  a  huge  ship,  its  body  and 
outline  strangely  melting  as  dusk  came  on  into  the  darkness 
above  it,  like  mist  swept  in  from  the  ocean.  Flying  high 
above  it  are  two  American  flags. 

We  have  safely  stowed  our  belongings  in  Massachu- 
setts Hall,  but  its  familiar  porch  is  like  some  banquet  hall 
deserted,  and  through  its  lower  corridors  still  romp  and  sing 
familiar  shadows  and  voices  of  a  Junetide  only  four  months 
back. 

The  bright  glow  of  the  fall  sunset  becomes  grey,  the 
lights  of  dormitories  and  halls  shine  out  in  a  cheery  circle 
about  the  Campus.  On  the  east  the  trio  of  old  halls  are 
outlined  brightly  by  electric  lights,  with  Dartmouth's  illu- 
minated belfry  gracefully  rising  in  their  midst ;  to  the  north 
the  high  deep  portico  of  Webster  Hall  shines  white ;  to  the 
south  the  Inn  is  a  mellow  hive  of  light.  Dark  forms  begin 
to  gather,  clumps  and  groups  pass  indistinctly  back  and 
forth.  Almost  we  expect  to  hear  that  ancient  autumn  cry 
of  "Football,  Freshie" !  echoing  its  blood-curdling  threat. 

But  instead  in  friendly  and  lean  ranks  united  for  self- 
assertion,  fragments  of  '98 — Patey,  Seelman,  Roberts,  Crow- 
ley ;  and  '00 — Teague,  Atwood,  Ham,  MacDavitt,  Downing ; 
and  '01 — Warren,  Krone;  and  '99  combined  to  give  in  turn 
the  war  cry : 

"'98  up!         '98  up!  —     - 
'99  up!        '99  up!  — 
'oo  up !        '00  up !  — 
'oi  up!        '01  up!"        Rapidly  around 

292 


lis  swell  the  dark  forms  of  other  classes  with  friendly  chaff- 
ing finding  their  orderly  place.  A  band  swings  into  line, — 
white  duck  trousers  and  green  sweaters  make  them  a  strik- 
ing and  visible  head  of  the  dark-hued  procession.  The  line 
begins  to  move,  first  cumbrously  and  uncertainly  like  a  tor- 
pid boa-constrictor,  then  at  the  north  torches  flare  up.  We 
move  in  that  direction, — barrels  full  of  them !  With  a  hun- 
dred criss-cross  motions  we  light  each  other's.  Now  the  line 
is  in  regular  swaying  motion,  south  the  length  of  the  Cam- 
pus on  the  Commons  side,  then  east  past  the  Inn  and  the 
great  shiplike  phantom  tent,  north  on  the  east  side,  the  line 
of  lights  twinkling  behind  us  like  vast  stretches  of  candela- 
bra almost  encircling  the  Campus.  Northward  still  past  Rol- 
lins Chapel  in  whose  dimly  lighted  tower  while  the  bells 
peal  out  madly  we  see  shadows  of  strenuous  forms  wildly 
pulling  at  the  ropes.  Up  we  wind  along  Prexy  Hopkins' 
driveway,  cheering  him  and  his  family  as  they  stand  to 
greet  us  on  the  piazza;  passing  west  back  to  Main  Street, 
the  weaving  line  of  lights  behind  like  a  caravan  of  desert 
pilgrims,  with  a  cheer  for  dear  old  Gabe  as  we  pass,  and  a 
shout  for  Jim  Barney  and  Hobe  with  Bill  Atwood  and  Ro- 
bie  as  we  see  them  rushing  a  big  Boston-Dartmouth  Club 
transparency  into  the  procession ;  another  shout  for  Mushie 
as  he  greets  us  with  his  family  from  his  auto  by  the  road- 
side, snatching  a  five  minute  glimpse  only  from  the  driving 
summons  of  285  jobs  simultaneously  on  hand. 

Then  comes  a  sudden  change.  Around  the  edge  of  the 
Campus,  but  this  side  of  the  tent,  springs  into  outline  a 
great  square  of  blue  flaring  lights.  The  torches  are  extin- 
guished and  we  cross  diagonally  the  magic  square  of  blue 
to  enter  the  bright  portal  of  the  tent. 

At  the  front,  where  the  animals  ought  to  be,  is  a  plat- 
form with  Faculty,  speakers,  Glee-Club,  and  dignitaries. 
Cheer  leaders  uneasily  wav.e  their  huge  megaphones,  like 
great  ears,  waiting  the  occasion  for  their  vociferous  use. 
Rapidly  the  tent  fills  up, — every  seat  is  taken,  the  freshmen 
crowd  the  standing  room  behind  to  the  very  canvas. 

293 


Then  silence  as  President  Hopkins  steps  forward,  a 
slience  to  be  sharply  broken  as  the  cheer  leaders  suddenly 
bid  the  crowd  greet  him  with  a  "Wah-Hoo-Wah."  And 
Dartmouth   night   is   on ! 

We  need  not  summarize  in  detail  the  speeches  of  the 
evening.  There  are  announcements  about  the  size  of  the  class 
of  1923, — 667,  the  bigp-est  registration  in  the  country;  greet- 
ings from  Edward  Tuck  by  cable ;  from  the  Ohio  Alumni, 
from  the  Episcopal  Convention  in  Connecticut,  from  Omaha, 
from  Pittsburg,  and  a  dozen  others ;  and  from  Atlanta, — 
the  first  Alumni  gathering  south  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line. 
This  last  reads:  "From  Atlanta  to  the  sea  Dartmouth  is 
marching  on."  And  there  is  an  unsolicited  and  unexpected 
telegram  tribute  and  friendly  greeting  from  the  Department 
of  the  Interior,  Bureau  of  Education. 

The  tent  we  are  told  is  a  metaphysical  puzzle,  for, 
though  by  actual  measurement  25  per  cent  larger  than  the 
one  used  in  1869,  it  seats  only  3,000,  while  that  is  traditional- 
ly reputed  to  have  accommodated  10,000! 

There  is  a  rising  and  a  rousing  cheer  for  venerable 
Joab  Patterson,  i860,  Honorary  Marshal,  the  actual  Mar- 
shal in  charge  in  i869;  and  for  Morrill  Gallagher,  1907 
Sesqui-Centennial  Alumni  Marshal.  Another  reverberat- 
ing cheer  for  1923,  the  reckless  cheer  leaders'  megaphones 
bounding  topsy-turvy  down  the  stage  steps,  and  here  is 
Samuel  L.  Powers,  1874,  the  first  speaker  of  the  evening. 

He  intimates  that  he  has  a  habit  of  coming  to  Dart- 
mouth celebrations  at  least  once  in  every  fifty  years, — was 
there  in  '69,  but  has  no  recollection  of  being  there  in  1819, 
in  fact  doubts  if  he  was  invited.  He  remembers  at  the 
Centennial  the  presence  of  General  Sherman  on  the  stage 
at  the  right  of  the  Chief  Justice.  There  was  a  poem  read  by 
some  distinguished  alumnus,  he  says,  an  ominous  event  for 
some  reason,  followed  by  rain,  wind,  thunder,  and  a  collaps- 
ing tent.  General  Sherman  beat  the  first  retreat  of  his  life — 
under  the  platform.    Judge  David  Cross  of  sainted  memory, 


294 


1841,  would  have  been  one  hundred  if  he  had  lived  until  the 
Sesqui-Centennial.  Before  Dartmouth  asked  Mr.  Powers, 
Judge  Cross  had  asked  him  to  dine  in  Hanover  at  this  time. 
Mr.  Powers  went  on  to  compare  old  times  and  new, — in 
those  earlier  days  with  80  per  cent  of  the  students  from 
New  Hampshire  and  Vermont,  now  with  less  than  half  the 
Freshman  class  even  from  New  England.  In  those  earlier 
days  also  the  President  of  the  College  was  ex-ofhcio  Chief 
of  Police  as  well.  A  deficient  or  recalcitrant  boy  was  not 
sent  home.  No,  the  College  prided  itself  on  reforming  and 
educating  every  youngster  sent  to  its  guardianship.  So  in 
case  of  misconduct,  the  erring  one  was  farmed  out  to  a  coun- 
try clergyman  for  from  three  to  six  weeks.  After  that  the 
dilinquent  scholar  seemed  invariably  thankful  and  glad  to 
;  perform  his  full  duty  in  Hanover  proper.  Mr.  Powers  closed 
his  address  by  calling  attention  to  the  fact  that  Dartmouth 
night  was  in  effect  Freshman  night  and  wished  the  Fresh- 
men were  all  down  front  instead  of  standing  in  the  rear. 

The  Glee  Club  took  its  turn  at  reminiscing,  dropping 
into  the  chatty  tune  of  "Eleazar  Wheelock  was  a  very  pi- 
ous man."  After  they  had  hammered  out  the  historical  facts 
of  Eleazar's  ancient  curriculum  and  the  Indian  Chief's  ma- 
triculation, President  Hopkins  introduced  as  representing  a 
class  that  produces  in  great  abundance  "governors  and  con- 
gressmen and  all  such  truck," — Matt  B.  Jones  of  1894. 

Mr.  Jones  had  spoken  previously  at  the  first  Dartmouth 
Night  in  1895  when  Doctor  Tucker  inaugurated  the  cus- 
tom of  such  a  celebration.  On  that  occasion,  with  a  class- 
mate, Matt  dropped  into  his  old  Math  class  to  visit.  Their 
presence  created  a  slight  disturbance.  The  Professor,  both- 
ered by  his  students'  inattention,  remarked,  "O,  don't  mind 
these  gentlemen ;  they're  only  two  fellows  who  flunked  this 
course  in  Freshman  year  and  are  back  to  make  it  up."  He 
hazarded  the  guess  that  likewise  he  must  have  flunked  his 
other  speech  and  was  being  given  this  opportunity  to  make 
it  up.  Getting  down  to  the  serious  part  of  his  talk  he  em- 
phasized the   fact  that  a   man's   kingdom  consists   not   of 

295 


what  he  has  but  of  what  he  does.  A  facsimile  of  anything 
in  life  is  not  worth  the  winning,  only  the  original  counts. 
Dartmouth  is  a  factory,  its  men  are  its  raw  material.  A 
knowledge  of  books  and  of  the  graces  of  life  will  help  in 
the  finished  product,  but  nothing  else  is  of  much  consequence 
if  first  of  all  men  do  not  learn  to  live  clean  and  think 
straight. 

Dave  Maloney  '97  pictured  a  boy  (evidently  himself) 
while  working  at  his  loom  suddenly  summoned  by  his  father 
to  go  to  Dartmouth.  His  memory  traveled  back  to  the  first 
trip  across  the  historic  bridge,  and  then  in  a  flash  to  his  first 
meeting  with  Doctor  Tucker,  and  to  that  great  man's  kindly 
words :  "My  boy,  prove  to  your  folks  that  you  are  worth  the 
sacrifice  they  are  making  for  you."  So  with  a  facetious  fling 
at  the  arrival  in  his  day  of  open  plumbing  in  Hanover  he 
passed  to  an  analysis  of  the  Dartmouth  Spirit  as  one  of  co- 
operation and  service,  of  friendliness  and  kindness ;  a  spirit 
that  says,  "Let's  do  something  together,"  or  in  Doctor 
Tucker's  words  to  '97  on  their  graduation,  "Keep  yourselves 
unspotted  from  the  world,  but  let  the  world  feel  your 
power." 

It  was  at  this  point  that  President  Hopkins  announced 
that  due  to  overwork  on  his  great  autobiographical  volume 
"My  Generation,"  Doctor  Tucker  was  too  sick  that  night 
even  to  have  the  procession  pass  his  house.  And  a  rousing 
cheer,  twice  over,  echoed  the  love  of  Dartmouth  men  for 
their  revered  leader. 

President  Benjamin  Marshall  '97  of  the  Connecticut 
College  of  Women  was  the  fourth  and  last  speaker.  His 
most  notable  utterance  was  a  tribute  to  Doctor  Tucker,  with 
whom  '97  entered  Dartmouth  and  whose  head  is  carved  on 
their  class  medallion.  "Born  again,"  he  pictured  the  stu- 
dents of  Doctor  Tucker's  time,  "as  that  great  man  looked 
you  straight  in  the  face  with  that  fine  glint  of  the  eye,  and 
with  the  only  gesture  he  ever  used  handed  out  to  his  hearers 
some  pearl  of  great  price,  some  nugget  of  gold,  some  bit  of 
truth,  imperishable  and  dynamic." 


296 


Out  on  the  Campus  in  the  clear  crisp  night  air, — fire- 
works. Showers  of  stars  like  golden  falling  maple  leaves, 
dull  bursting  bombs,  snake-sputters  of  brightness  darting 
zigzag  like  water  bugs  on  quiet  pools,  clusters  and  umbrella- 
sprays  of  colored  lights,  soft  bursts  of  blue  and  red  and  yel- 
low. 

Then  Scotty's,  the  inevitable  Scotty's.  And  Ralph 
Hawkes,  Dave  Parker  and  Joe  Gannon  with  their  wives, 
and  the  other  Ninety-niners  already  mentioned, — with  the 
familiar  cream  bottles,  the  doughnuts,  and  the  sandwiches. 
A  miniature  Ninety-nine  re-reunion  in  the  midst  of  the 
bigger  Dartmouth  ,Birthday. 

As  with  '99  at  the  Vicennial  in  June,  so  now  in  October 
at  the  Sesqui-Centennial  the  weather  held  ideal.  After  an 
early  river  fog  the  next  morning  that  swathed  the  Campus 
in  a  chill  quilt  of  white  out  of  which  the  big  tent  loomed 
more  like  a  ghostly  ship  than  ever,  the  sun  came  out  strong 
and  clear,  though  still  leaving  a  spicy  and  invigorating  tang 
in  the  air.  In  the  familiar  way,  however,  first  we  ran  across 
to  Chapel,  while  the  bell  tolled  nearer  and  nearer  its  last 
relentless  stroke  and  slipped  into  the  far  back  seats.  A  mod- 
ern Dartmouth.  "Daily  Dartmouths"  in  the  students'  hands, 
distributed  thus  early  by  an  unheard  of  enterprise;  stacks  of 
telltale  attendance  cards  filled  out  and  collected  at  the  door 
in  place  of  the  old  neck-craning  monitors ;  extended  depth  of 
wings  and  nave  so  that  President  Hopkins  as  he  read  seemed 
to  stand  at  a  remote  distance;  and  out  at  the  corner  by  the 
Chapel  the  sign  with  arrow  pointing  north,  "Bretton 
Woods."  All  quiet  but  convincing  evidences  that  out  of  the 
old  Dartmouth,  secluded,  separate,  and  small,  has  been  born 
a  vaster  institution,  teeming  and  growing,  and  reaching  out 
in  easy  and  almost  daily  contact  with  the  greater  world 
without. 

Such  too  is  the  story  of  the  Outing  Club  with  its  chain 
of  cabins,  trails,  and  systematic  hikes.  Moose  Mountain 
cabin   7   miles   away,   beyond    Etna   and   Hanover   Center, 


297 


was  the  center  of  college  hospitality  on  Saturday.  Stories  of 
roast  pig  that  made  one's  mouth  water  and  one's  mind 
tingle  with  recollections  of  Lamb's  solemn  dissertation 
roused  the  old  migratory  and  predatory  instincts  of  twenty 
years  ago.  And  though  many  went  by  auto  and  some  of  '99's 
delegation  remained  sitting  in  solemn  conclave  in  Norwich 
Inn  to  keep  watch  while  the  ladies  slept,  and  to  lay  grave 
plans  for  vast  endowments  of  the  future  William  Jewett 
Tucker  Memorial  Library,  others  took  the  ancient  and  time- 
honored  shank's  mare  route  past  Culver,  Type's  and  Char- 
lie Darwin's  up  the  hill  past  Balch's  with  the  glorious  view 
back  from  above  over  the  valley.  Under  yellow  birches  and 
golden  maples,  beyond  the  Etna  Road  into  the  pasture  up- 
land to  a  huge  white  birch  looking  down  upon  a  forest  of 
blue-green  pines ;  and  everywhere  luring  on  from  stonewall, 
tree,  and  boulder,  the  Outing  Club  symbol  of  the  red  circle 
with  a  slash  of  white  above  and  below.  Phil  Patey  '98  and 
his  endless  stream  of  cheery  reminiscence ;  big  Meat  Hanlon 
'03  stripping  in  succession  coat,  vest,  sweater, — and  bare- 
armed  perspiring  still;  Runlett  '16  overtaking  to  guide  the 
party  along  his  favorite  trail ;  George  Clark  in  heavy  walk- 
ing boots  as  sprightly  as  though  he  had  never  heard  of  such 
a  thing  as  sprained  ankles,  and  eagerly  piecing  together  from 
turnpike  and  disused  lane  the  historic  "College  Road"  that 
was  laid  out  by  Governor  Wentworth  when  he  came  from 
Centre  Harbor  to  Hanover's  first  Commencement,  and  that 
still  runs  past  George's  Plymouth  farm.  Up  springy,  marshy 
paths,  across  hillside  potato  fields,  over  brooks,  pastures  and 
wood  lots,  beyond  the  autos  parked  in  the  uplands,  one-half 
mile  further,  part  way  up  Moose  Mountain, — we  are  at  the 
Cabin  with  its  field-stone  chimney,  huge  hearth,  overhead 
bunks;  and  out-of-doors  seats  invitingly  blanketed  and 
cushioned.  Here  is  the  cider  keg,  and  there  in  turn  laid  out 
are  piles  of  rosy  apples,  plates,  silver,  mounds  of  bread, 
pyramids  of  butter  pats,  great  pails  of  baked  sweet  pota- 
toes, sliced  savory  pig,  apple  sauce  by  the  gallon,  mustard, 
coffee,    and    huge    quarters    of    mince    pie.      After    din- 


298 


tier  a  half  mile  climb  to  West  View  under  escort  of  Carl 
Shumway  '13  back  from  aviation  duty  on  the  Irish  and  Eng- 
lish Coasts  and  one  of  the  original  founders  of  the  Cabin 
and  the  Club.  To  the  west  the  graceful  outline  of  Ascut- 
ney  and  the  rolling  range  of  the  Green  Mountains,  to  the 
south  Cardigan  flanked  and  backed  by  brother  peaks.  We 
have  just  begun  to  live. 

But  it  is  only  an  incident.  We  are  flying  back  with 
Edgerton  '06,  the  man  who  makes  a  "Reo  act  like  a  Pack- 
ard," swooping  endlessly  down  hill,  glimpsing  a  score  of  old 
familiar  landmarks,  coasting  down,  down  past  Balch's,  and 
here's  the  crowd  again,  headed  for  the  Athletic  Field. 

But  it  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  account  to  tell  in  lavish 
detail  all  the  incidents  that  remain.  Just  beyond,  in  inimit- 
able fashion,  George  has  given  the  story  of  the  ceremonies 
of  Monday,  the  heart  of  the  Sesqui-Centennial.  Briefly 
then  to  close  this  introductory  portion. 

After  Penn  State  had  given  the  huge  Dartmouth  crowd 
every  kind  of  thrill  possible,  its  marvellous  half  Way  run- 
ning the  first  kickoff  back  for  a  touchdown, — and  later,  still' 
in  the  first  period,  dashing  80  yards  through  the  whole  op- 
posing team  with  a  fumbled  ball  for  another  score,  the 
Dartmouth  eleven  with  a  courage  unequalled  fought  through 
to  a  victorious  conclusion,  19-13.  Heartbreaking  and  soul- 
satisfying. 

Evening  brought  the  revival  of  the  "Founders."  Here 
Sleep  first  appeared  on  the  '99  horizon  to  see  "Skeet"  the 
Medicine  Man  make  his  futile  attempt  to  compel  the  white 
captive  girl,  daughter  of  the  chief  of  the  Wah-hoo-wahs,  to 
marry  him.  John  Wheelock,  son  of  Eleazer,  bargains  with 
the  Indians  for  some  two  hundred  to  forty  thousand  acres 
of  land  for  a  school  that  he  may  teach  Indians  to  be  happy 
and  prosperous  without  labor.  But  Occom  considers  him- 
self happy  and  idle  already,  a  condition  needing  no  grants 
of  land  or  founding  of  white  men's  schools  to  improve. 
However,  a  colored  bottle  passing  from  John's  possession  to 


299 


his,  beguiles  him  into  asininity  and  he  signs  the  deed.  Pres- 
ently the  Medicine  Man  reproaches  and  threatens  Occom 
with  eleven  years  of  awful  torture  (showing  visions  of  a 
hideous  girl's  head  labelled  "Leb,"  a  tottering  car  labelled 
"B.  &  M.",  and  finally  Dartmouth  Hall)  unless  as  an  alter- 
native he  marries  Lady  Sanborn  who  is  enticingly  wooing 
him.  But  he  distractedly  resists  her  importuning  though  her 
amorous  songs  are  seductively  echoed  by  four  attractive 
Indian  couples.  Her  only  hope  of  him  lies  at  last  in  the 
flight  of  his  numerous  harem  into  the  forest  to  be  organized 
by  one  of  the  up-to-date  white  women  settlers  into  a  Wom- 
en's Union;  in  his  consequent  perplexity  over  his  hapless 
wailing  papooses  left  behind;  and  in  Lady  Sanborn's 
promptly  manifested  skill  in  quieting  their  vociferousness. 

But  if  the  plot  seemed  at  times  rather  thin  and  incon- 
sequential, and  Sam  Oecom's  folly  somewhat  incongruous, 
the  audience  at  least  enjoyed  the  effective  orchestration,  the 
choruses,  the  involuntary  oblique  ascent  during  the  last  cho- 
rus of  a  wall-sized  stage  painting  of  Dartmouth  Hall,  and 
the  near  decapitation  of  several  too  forward  members  of 
the  final  chorus  by  the  over-rapidly  descending  curtain. 

Rev.  Ozora  S.  Davis  '89  was  the  preacher  at  the  College 
Church  on  Sunday  morning  as  'he  had  been  at  the  Bacca- 
laureate in  June.-  What  other  text  could  he  have  taken  than 
"The  voice  of  one  crying  in  the  Wilderness,"  adopted  in  its 
Latin  form  for  the  College  seal  in  1773  on  recommendation 
of  Eleazar  Wheelock :  "Vox  clamantis  in  deserto"  ?  Out  of 
the  eloquent  address  a  few  appealing  sentences  still  echo. 
Eleazar  Wheelock's  words :  "I  built  a  hut  of  logs  without 
bricks  or  stone  or  glass  or  nails,  and  my  son  made  booths 
and  beds  of  hemlock  boughs !"  Thus  still  today  while  we  ob- 
serve that  "tragic  tinge  of  vanishing  red  which  called  Dart- 
mouth into  being,"  we  glow  with  pride  in  our  "Brotherhood 
of  £he  flaming  soul  and  the  vibrant  voice,"  the  brotherhood 
of  an  institution  that  "prepares  the  living  man  for  the  living 
touch  upon  his  time."  Yet  we  live  in  times  as  uncertain 
and  changeful  as  those  of  Eleazar  Wheelock,  for  "Though 


300 


the  blood  upon  the  key  of  the  present  is  as  yet  hardly  dry, 
it  no  longer  fits  the  future's  portal.  Our  way  still  lies 
through  the  wilderness."  And  to  guide  us  through  this  wil- 
derness men  must  learn  to  live  for  things  spiritual  and  not 
merely  for  things  material.  Else,  for  the  rich  man  "His 
dividends  are  his  disaster.  He  has  not  lived,  he  has  only 
labored." 

But  the  Secretary  has  reached  the  relay  post.     Exit 
K.    Enter  George. 


NINETY-NINE  AT  THE  SESQUI-CENTENNIAL 

October  19,  2  P.  M.  on. 

After  dinner  Hobe,  assisted  by  Donny,  Jim  ,Barney 
and  Bill  Atwood,  gathered  up  "K"  and  his  suitcase  and 
motored  them  to  West  Leb  to  catch  the  Boston  train.  It 
was  a  forced  retreat  on  K's  part.  The  desire  to  linger  and 
further  chronicle  events  had  been  routed  by  school  duties. 
As  Hobe  gave  the  engine  gas,  K  tossed. the  Chronicler's 
mantle  as  a  parting  good-bye  to  the  ex-secretary.  Presi- 
dents may  have  difficulty  in  knowing  what  to  do  with  ex- 
presidents,  not  so  class  secretaries  with  ex-class  secretaries. 
Ergo  these  supplementary  notes. 

Instantly  the  cheer  seemed  to  drop  out  of  things,  the 
drab  heavens  grew  drabber.  A  visit  upon  Sleep's  fresh- 
man Edgar  Lyle  rescued  by  Sleep  and  the  20th  Reunion 
from  the  degradation  of  a  life  at  Tufts  to  the  elevated 
Dartmouth  atmosphere  of  the  Southwest  corner  of  the 
second  floor  of  Reed  Hall,  that  good  old  freshman  stamp- 
ing ground  of  '99, — Sleep,  Sleep's  brother  and  Sleep's  dog 
were  there  too  chortling  over  the  saving  of  another  soul 
to  Dartmouth  influence  and  outside  the  portal  stood 
Sleep's  great  green  motor  throwing  paradoxes  at  the  mem- 
ories of  the  past,— arguments  ad  hominem  between  Buck 
Burns  and  Squaw  Kirk,  arguments  ad  aurem  by  Benny's 

301 


baby  organ,  filtering  out  from  the  square-panel  windows 
above  it ;  attendance  upon  a  f  rat  meeting  acted  as  equalizers 
until  Hobe  and  his  '99  satellites  returned.  The  heavens 
by  this  time  had  begun  to  frown  real  tears  so  the  gray 
dampness  of  the  Terrace  of  the  Commons  was  swapped 
for  the  golden  warmth  of  40  Middle  Massachusetts  and 
the  reins  to  real  '99  discussion  handed  over  to  Hobe  and 
Donny,  while  the  rest,  now  including  Dr.  Hale  Dearborn, 
listened  and  added  to  the  tobacco  smoke.  Hobe  was  just 
in  the  height  of  an  oratorical  climax,  excluding  Thaddeus 
Stevens  from  the  roll  of  the  Dartmouth  immortals,  for 
abetting  the  post  civil  war  carpet  baggery  and  its  at- 
tendant ills,  when  a  knock  upon  the  door  announced  the 
arrival  of  Jerry.  In  a  jiffy  the  latter* s  coat  and  hat  were 
off  and  he  was  in  the  fray  too.  His  entry  as  the  delegate 
from  Princeton  signalled  the  beginning  of  the  more  formal 
part  of  the  celebration.  Luckily  before  any  bodily  damage 
occurred  the  pealing  of  the  chapel  bells  broke  up  the  heat 
of  the  discussion.  Hobe  and  Donny  could  not  quite  nerve 
up  tc  another  church  service.  They  had  already  listened 
to  Ozora  Davis' » brilliant  exegesis  upon  "Vox  clamantis 
in  deserto"  from  sinners'  row  in  the  gallery  of  the  College 
Church  and  later  attended  mass  at  St.  Denis.  But  the  rest 
of  us  gathered  ourselves  into  our  coats  and  tried  to  beat 
out  the  pelting  rain  and  those  long  forgotten  ominous 
bell  strokes.  Fifty  freshmen  were  coming  away  from  the 
chapel  porch  as  we  approached,  "no  more  room,"  but  we 
kept  on  around  to  what  used  to  be  the  President's  door 
and  slipped  in.  A  row  of  students  kindly  gave  up  their 
seats  and  we  merged  into  the  great  throng  reaching  into  all 
corners  of  the  edifice.  President  Hopkins  was  impressive, 
the  student  choristers  and  the  great  organ  rang  out  richly 
from  the  choir  loft,  the  voices  raised  in  hymn  from  the 
floor  crammed  the  vaults  above.  Just  before  the  postlude 
some  of  the  singers  in  the  choir  loft  gave  way  to  a  stringed 
quartet.  They  played  a  pleasant  "Meditation"  but  it  some- 
how seemed  an  anachronism.     The  vigorous  and  familiar 


302 


Hallelujah  chorus  set  things  right  again  stirring  up  mem- 
ories of  memorable  vesper  services  in  the  past,  confirming 
one's  belief  in  the  memorableness  of  that  of  the  present. 

The  rain  had  ceased,  the  throngs  flared  out  across 
the  campus  in  all  directions,  delegates  like  Jerry  to  the 
buffet  luncheon  at  Robinson,  the  rest  of  us  to  eat  where 
we  could.  Clifford,  Hale  Dearborn  and  I  got  into  the 
dining  room  at  the  Inn  and  later  on  after  supper  Joe  and 
Mrs.  Gannon,  Doc  and  Mrs.  Hawkes,  Jim  Barney,  Bill 
Atwood,  Hobe,  Donny  and  Jerry  joined  us  in  the  Lounge. 
We  misadventured  out  once  again  to  the  chapel  for  an  organ 
recital  interesting  to  those  who  could  appreciate  technique 
and  the  mechanics  of  a  great  organ,  but,  even  though 
Sleeper  had  insisted  we  sit  in  the  first  row  of  the  apse  so 
that  the  music  would  not  come  to  us  broken  by  the 
arch  above,  chastisement  to  tired  celebrators.  The  organist 
visualized  his  organ,  but  forgot  to  visualize  his  auditors. 
Scotty's,  then  sleep  were  more  satisfying. 

Monday,  October  20,  1919       Twenty-two  speeches.— 

A  giant  intellect  or  a  believer  in  the  impossible  must 
have  planned  today.  That  is  my  retrospect  tonight.  My 
prospect  this  morning  looked  out  upon  a  fair  green  campus, 
across  which  the  lines  of  Old  Dartmouth,  Wentworth, 
Thornton  and  Reed  ran  through  an  interlacing  of  tree 
trunks  and  limbs,  framed  here  and  there  by  one  tree  like 
the  Webster  elm,  still  holding  its  mass  of  golden  brown 
leaves.  Cool  night  shadows  still  lingered  on  the  grass 
before  the  halls.  Overhead  spread  the  pale  blue  of  a  crisp 
autumn  sky.  Somehow  the  old  buildings  seemed  more  fair 
than  at  Commencement  time.  You  got  their  outlines  com- 
plete. Never  a  hint  of  the  coming  ordeal  by  speeches  sug- 
gested itself  anywhere,  unless  in  the  program  in  one's 
pocket.  But  why  bother  with  that  under  such  surroundings. 
Let  events  come  as  they  might. 

A  line  of  dark  gowned  seniors  like  a  darker  shadow 
drew  itself  before  the  chapel.  Freshmen  in  leather  coats 
and  pea  green  caps  were  carrying  big  tables  out  upon  the 

303 


green.  The  flare  of  music  set  their  feet  to  doing  a  goose 
step.  Jubilance  was  in  the  air.  Folks  were  turning  chapel- 
ward.  Gay  academic  hoods  gave  the  black  gowns  and 
interspersed,  gray  overcoats  of  the  gathering  and  inter- 
weaving throng  the  appearance  of  the  interior  of  a  revolv- 
ing kaleidoscope.  The  seniors  went  within  the  chapel  and 
drew  the  rest  after  them.  There  the  body  seats  down  the 
center  aisle  pews  were  a  mediaeval  clash  of  colors  hedged 
in  by  alumni  drabness  in  the  north  transept,  senior  blackness 
in  the  east  apse  and  more  drabness  in  the  south  transept. 
The  service  was  short.  The  President's  prayer  that  we 
might  "put  off  our  day  time  cloaks  of  dissembling"  had  an 
unsuspected  roorback  under  the  circumstances.  It  gave 
one's  funny  bone  a  twinge. 

At  the  end  of  the  service  the  Marshals  so  directed 
the  going  out  that  the  order  of  the  academic  procession 
was  formed.  One  caught  sight  of  Jerry's  slightly  time- 
dulled  golden  hair  above  a  Princeton  gown  amid  the  dele- 
gates and  of  Long  Jim's  hooded  form  towering  above  the 
faculty  members.  The  procession,  flag-bearers,  seniors, 
trustees  and  guests,  delegates,  faculty,  town  officials,  alumni, 
gradually  evolved  itself.  The  "gray  hairs"  in  the  alumni 
were  gotten  down  front  and  1900  with  some  vociferousness 
on  the  part  of  "Chelsea"  Atwood  eventually  put  1903 
properly  back  of  us  in  the  line.  Westward  on  Church 
Street  to  Main  Street,  then  down  beneath  the  arching  elms 
and  between  the  lines  of  autos  toward  the  Inn  and  eastward 
on  Wheelock  Street  to  the  east  side  of  the  campus  the 
procession  went.  The  flag  bearers  already  were  opposite 
the  Thayer  School  (the  old  Gym)  when  '99  was  passing 
Webster  Hall.  The  band  puffed  out  a  funeral-like  march 
relieved  by  alumni  shouts  like  "get  in  here  Ted  where  you 
belong"  as  the  alumni  end  of  the  parade  picked  up  the 
stragglers  standing  along  the  line  of  march.  The  procession 
ran  the  gauntlet  of  whole  batteries  of  cameras  and  then 
the  split  ranks  of  the  seniors,  reaching  down  the  east  end 
of  the  campus  from  Webster  Hall,  as  it  slowly  filed  up 
by  the  great  tent  and  entered  Webster  Hall. 

304 


The  seating  of  an  academic  assembly  is  more  com- 
plicated than  planting  a  bed  of  hardy  perennials.  It  must 
take  a  landscape  gardener  to  lay  it  out.  Today  the  band 
was  stationed  in  the  apse,  on  the  left  of  the  platform  were 
the  faculty,  on  the  right  trustees  and  guests,  on  the  left 
of  the  space  before  the  platform  the  student  chorus,  to 
the  right  the  student  orchestra  and  the  tables  for  the  stenog- 
raphers, in  the  body  of  the  hall  the  behooded  delegates,  the 
alumni  and  next  the  seniors.  Students,  faculty  people  and 
others  filled  in  the  edges,  sat  in  the  galleries  and  along  the 
side  seats,  but  nowheres  filled  them.  At  the  time  of  a  great 
celebration  Hanover  somehow  seems  to  get  beset  with  a 
great  fear  lest  there  won't  be  room  enough.  The  result 
is  always  the  same,  vacant  spaces  that  give  a  saddening 
atmosphere  of  lost  points  of  contact  for  either  student  or 
alumni  enthusiasms.  Today's  vacant  spaces  were  just  a 
repetition  of  past  celebrations.  It  needed  all  the  sunshine 
through  the  great  windows  and  the  pictures  of  Rufus  tear- 
ing the  air  and  twinkling — to  counteract  the  empty  corners 
that  might  have  been  filled. 

The  overture  from  Mignon  made  a  glorious  opening 
for  the  exercises.  It  was  followed  by  an  invocation  by 
the  Rev.  Francis  E.  Clark  and  five  happy  felicitations : — 

H.  W.  Newell  '20,  for  the  undergraduate  body  re- 
minded us  that  "the  Dartmouth  of  today  had  done  some- 
thing, the  call  to  the  colors  had  been  its  challenge  and  trial 
and  fourscore  and  ten  in  meeting  it  had  made  the  supreme 
sacrifice." 

Prof.  E.  J.  Bartlett  for  the  faculty  crowned  himself 
with  glory  from  the  very  moment  of  his  address  to  the 
President,  "Dear  friend,  (pause)  I  mean  honored  Sir."  He 
went  on  "I  am  a  relique  of  the  past,  when  the  rains  came 
and  washed  the  oldest  living  graduate  ancl  distinguished 
guests  from  the  platform  to  refuge  under  it"  (referring 
to  the  Centennial  exercises).  "I  bring  you  the  felicitations 
of  'your  faculty,'  'yours'  according  to  the  tenor  of  the  an- 
cient instrument  creating  the  college  and  establishing  the 

305 


powers  of  the  trustees.  It  is  a  pleasant  and  delicate  task, 
but  I  may  not  be  delicate  when  I  get  through.  I  felicitate 
you,  rather  than  congratulate  you.  We  congratulate  the 
prospective  bridegroom  for  achieving  a  difficult  task.  We 
felicitate  the  lady  in  the  case  because  she  may  not  be  sus- 
pected of  striving.  This  bright  October  morning  is  full 
of  joy,  not  the  kind  inseparable  with  the  earlier  celebra- 
tions of  the  college.  I  have  pride  and  solemn  joy  in  you, 
not  a  voice  crying  in  the  wilderness  but  one  raised  with 
a  clamor.  The  goodly  company  of  saints  in  the  pictures  on 
the  walls  praise  you  and  the  many  worthy  sinners  with  you 
today  do  likewise.  Mr.  President  you  have  wrought  your 
part  in  the  great  days.  I  felicitate  you  upon  it  and  envy 
you  too  in  the  conflict  to  come;  that  'fair  play'  may  not  be 
lost  and  that  the  old  college  shall  still  mean  eternal  belief 
in  the  verities  of  man."  These  snatches  fail  to  give  the 
little  hesitating  rasp  and  twinkle  in  his  voice  and  eyes  as 
he  put  over  his  points.  There  was  the  flavor  of  old  wine 
in  them.  On  many  preceding  occasions  Professor  Bartlett 
has  been  happy,  but  never  as  felicitous  as  this  morning. 

W.  T.  Abbott,  '90,  for  the  alumni,  opened  fire  with 
the  mot,  "That  curses  and  chickens  are  not  the  only  things 
that  come  home  to  roost ;  your  inaugural  address  has,  but 
I  even  doubt  if  you  then  saw  the  condition  of  the  country 
as  it  is  today ;  Grouchiness.  In  England  two  classes  of 
people  left,  as  they  say,  impoverished  nice  people  and  nasty 
people  enriched  by  war."  His  Wilsonesque  lower  jaw 
snapped.  "What  is  the  answer?  A  campaign  of  education 
and  conversion  for  more  toil?  Against  the  present  day  ul- 
timatum of  force  against  force,  Dartmouth  must  take 
leads,  wake  people  up.  Your  purpose  today  must  be  as 
far-sighted  as  your  vision  five  years  ago.  The  alumni  are 
back  of  you.  Add  another  sheaf  to  yonder  tower  and  the 
granite  of  New  Hampshire  shall  keep  the  record  of  their 
fame."  It  was  a  snappy  odd  sort  of  speech,  suggestive  of 
the  "stump"  rather  than  the  reception  room,  but  after  all 
sturdy  and  synchronistic. 


306 


The  next  felicitator  was  Dean  Jones  of  Yale.  He 
bowed  to  the  President  and  thereupon  drew  his  long  lank 
form  up  and  turned  his  long  oval  head  face  on  to  the  aud- 
ience. His  predecessors  had  made  a  pretense  of  speaking  to 
the  President,  with  an  aside  as  it  was  to  the  audience.  Not 
so  the  humor  oozing  Dean.  He  was  "glad  college  presidents 
were  sometimes  so  busy  they  couldn't  get  away ;  it  gave  the 
faculty  a  chance  for  a  junket,  and  it  was  lucky  for  him 
that  Eleazar  picked  Dartmouth  to  found  and  Yale  to  go  to," 
and  he  showed  he  intended  to  make  the  most  out  of  it.  In 
one  character  he  brought  the  felicitations  of  Yale  "who 
speaks  as  the  mother  of  Dartmouth."  In  another  character 
he  paid  "tribute  to  Dartmouth  for  the  brotherhood  repre- 
senting all  American  Universities,  some  of  whom  came  in 
limousines  and  some  on  the  night  train,  1:15  A.  M. ;  our 
loss  not  theirs."  As  he  closed  he  became  poetic,  "One 
hundred  fifty  years  are  but  the  morning  hours.  There  are 
no  evening  shadows  yet,  Dartmouth  shall  sail  beyond  the 
sunset  and  all  the  western  stars.  All  the  Brethren  who 
are  with  me  greet  you  and  all  the  Saints  salute  you." 

His  Excellency  Governor  Bartlett  '94  brought  this 
part  of  the  program  to  a  close  offering  the  felicitations  of 
the  State  of  New  Hampshire.  At  the  same  time  ameliorat- 
ing a  little  incident  that  happened  back  in  1819  in  much 
the  same  way  that  an  Englishman  would  the  little  incident 
■  of  1776.     It  was  happily  and  well  done. 

Felicitations  at  college  celebrations  are  delicate  situa- 
tions, quite  as  delicate  as  the  exhibition  of  the  first  born 
to  a  bachelor  college  chum  and  faux  pas  are  quite  as  likely 
to  rise  up  unawares  to  later  shame  one  in  the  former  as  in 
the  latter  circumstance.  But  nothing  untoward  had  hap- 
pened and  much  that  was  toward  had  been  said. 

The  Chief  Marshal,  Professor  E.  F.  Clark  '01,  tall 
and  sober  faced  as  well  as  sober  robed,  announced  the  An- 
niversary Ode  written  by  Professor  Childs  of  the  English 
Department.  Professor  McWhood  who  had  written  the 
rmusic.and  who  had  the  distinction  of  being  the  only  academ- 


307 


ic  person  present  to  be  shockingly  ungowned,  took  his  place 
on  the  floor  in  front  of  the  platform.  The  student  choristers 
over  on  the  left  rose.  A  violin  bow  ran  across  the  strings 
in  the  orchestra.    A  baton  was  raised,  then  the  crash  :— 

"Dartmouth,  old  Dartmouth, 
Your  sons  have  come  home!" 

The  music  lifted  you  up  into  heaven  at  once.  It  had  the 
trick  of  seeming  to  detach  you  from  yourself  and  carrying 
you  swiftly  along  in  its  rhythmic  sweep.  It  may  have  been 
the  putting  of  the  chorus  before  the  verse  that  did  this,  but 
however  it  was,  the  music  and  the  ode  thrilled  you.  The 
first  verse  was  a  base  recitative,  the  second  verse  a  tenor 
recitative.     That  second  verse:  1 

"Your  torch  that  you  kindled  in  faith  for  the  eldest 
A  hundred  and  fifty  winters  ago, 
A  wilderness  guide  for  your  Indian  sons, 
Has  burned  to  a  beacon  flaming  so  far 
That  your  youngest  have  seen  it  in  France  and  in 

Flanders, — 
Have  seen  it  and  known  that  your  watch  is  still  set 
In  their  home  in  the  North; 
And  whispering  your  name  have  given  their  lives 
In  courage  and  strength,  as  you  bade,  for  the  truth. 
Oh  mother  of  men,  blest  are  your  sons !" 

set  your  frame  on  fire  made  it  quiver  with  emotion  notwith- 
standing the  beauty  of  the  addresses  that  followed  and  they 
were  gripping  with  beauty  and  thought.  Though  one  hesi- 
tates to  declare  a  preference,  yet  a  feeling  persists  that  the 
ode  and  its  music  was  the  finest  thing  in  the  exercises.  Its 
memory  still  thrills. 

President  Hopkins  had  been  sitting  a  short  distance 
behind  the  speakers'  desk  on  the  faculty  side  of  the  plat- 
form, silent  save  for  a  nod  of  the  head  or  the  snap  of  his 
dark  eyes  as  he  parried  the  thrusts  of  a  felicitator.  Some- 
how his  features  never  seemed  so  swarthy  as  they  did  this 


308 


morning  or  so  full  of  fire.  He  now  rose  and  introduced 
Justice  Stafford  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  District  of 
Columbia  to  speak  upon  "The  College,  a  Training  School 
for  Public  Service." 

The  picture  of  Justice  Stafford  speaking  etches  itself 
upon  the  memory  in  as  fine  lines  as  does  his  speech.  Of 
medium  height,  a  delicate  refined  face  framed  in  bushy 
gray  hair,  a  small  dark  moustache,  glasses  that  reflected  the 
sunlight,  hand  clasped  in  hand  across  his  gown  or  raised 
in  infrequent  simple  gesture,  he  stood  behind  the  speaker's 
desk  and  spoke  with  stirring  simplicity.  It  isn't  so  much 
the  words  that  come  back,  though  some  of  them  do  come 
back  into  the  picture.  The  college  stands  for  getting  back 
to  originals,  for  the  cultivation  of  power  and  the  pouring 
of  power  into  our  own  time,  Keats  was  as  ignorant  of  the 
Greek  language  as  a  modern  student  may  be,  yet  he  was 
"college  bred."  College  means  discipline  of  powers,  use 
of  genius  of  men  before  us,  devotion  of  power  to  common 
weal ;  it  is  the  tool  shop.  The  glory  of  Dartmouth  is  that 
it  has  embodied  this  spirit.  Dartmouth  never  stood  for  the 
Montessori  system  in  higher  education ;  Dartmouth  stands 
first  for  compact  of  states ;  second  for  wholeness  of  states, 
— story  of  first  chapter  told  in  biography  of  her  greatest 
son  Webster,  the  story  of  second  chapter  told  in  story  of 
another  son,  Thaddeus  Stevens.  Vilification  followed  him 
in  life  and  death,  yet  no  son  more  true  to  ideals  did  more 
enduring  work.  ,Black,  his  rival  at  bar,  declared  he  had 
not  his  equal.  Born  1793,  graduated  1814,  in  December, 
1859  at  70  years  of  age  he  entered  Congress  and  for  nine 
years  championed  free  principles.  He  ruled  the  House  of 
Representatives  with  a  rod  of  iron.  Was  its  greatest 
parliamentarian,  excepting  John  Quincy  Adams.  He  poured 
the  heated  lava  of  the  nation  into  its  fundamental  law, 
made  the  Declaration  of  Independence  and  constitution  one. 
He  was  greater  than  Webster.  The  riddle  before  the 
Sphinx  today  is  how  are  masses  of  men  to  labor  with  their 
hands  and  be  secured  a  fair  return.     Until  this  riddle  is 


309 


answered  there  can  be  no  peace.  If  we  do  not  face  it  we 
will  have  a  revolution.  Let  us  hope  United  States  may  solve 
the  riddle.  So  now  the  answer  to  the  riddle  of  the  Sphinx 
is  still  man,  man,  man.  The  solution  is  in  the  treatment 
of  men  as  brothers,  granting  to  each  the  fruits  of  his  labor 
and  the  opportunity  to  raise  himself.  The  world  looks  for 
leadership  in  institutions  like  Dartmouth,  "strong  hearted 
mother  of  the  north."  It  is  not  so  much  the  words  that 
come  back  as  it  is  the  symmetry  of  his  speech,  its  graceful 
delicacy  and  finish,  its  embroidery  of  well  quoted  verse 
and  the  uplifted  face  speaking  those  last  words  with  spirit- 
ual divination. 

Quite  different  was  the  next  speaker,  President  Burton 
of  the  University  of  Minnesota.  Sturdy  and  stalwart  his 
comments  upon  "What  must  the  college  do?"  came  like  a 
trip-hammer  working  at  wartime  emergency  speed.  "First 
it  must  insist  on  accuracy  of  thought  and  work  in  staff  and 
student  body.  Second  it  must  stimulate  and  awaken  our 
spirit.-  It  must  get  away  from  the  formalism  of  the  past. 
It  must  put  more  emphasis  on  teaching,  students  who  study, 
teachers  who  teach.  Its  object  is  not  the  amount  of  know- 
ledge but  stimulation  of  human  being;  an  active  soul,  the 
end ;  need  an  active  soul  at  both  ends  of  problem ;  must 
provide  'open  gate'  for  students  (pig  story)  to  try  out  things 
for  themselves ;  must  solve  problems  of  day  by  new  plans ; 
must  respect  formal  law  (applause).  In  order  to  produce 
responsibility  it  must  be  saturated  with  spirit  of  serious 
discussion  and  finally  it  must  be  a  training  school  in  integ- 
rity. The  need  of  the  world  is  good  will,  understanding.  It 
has  become  suspicious  of  higher  education  because  Germany 
lacked  integrity.  World  trusts  America.  Make  sure  Amer- 
ica can  trust  her  college"  was  his  parting  thrust. 

My  powers  of  reception  were  dulled  and  jaded.  It 
gave  one  an  encouraged  feeling  to  slyly  note  that  the  Gov- 
ernors, even  some  of  the  Trustees  and  even  stately  old 
General  Patterson,  the  grand  Marshal  of  the  Centennial, 
with  his  white  burnsides,  the  real  relique  of  past,  gave  the 


310 


appearance  of  being  akin  to  sleep.  However,  there  was  an 
"epilogue"  and  I  had  been  wondering  ever  since  I  opened 
the  program  just  what  sort  of  a  feminine  last  word  this 
might  be.  One  must  pull  his  frayed  energies  together 
though  he  wishes  some  one  had  believed  with  one  other  that 
"a  good  play  need  no  epilogue."  As  President  Hopkins 
stepped  quickly  to  the  desk  and  began  to  speak  earnestly 
and  vigorously,  it  turned  out  that  what  was  called  an  epi- 
logue was  really  the  third  act. 

The  President's  objective  was  an  exposition  of  purpose, 
a  sort  of  credo  for  Dartmouth.  That  Dartmouth's  re- 
sponsibility is  separate  and  apart  from  that  which  in  general 
appertains  to  the  American  college;  that  we- propose  to  seek 
its  solution  in  the  light  of  our  own  experience  and  of  our 
own  reasoning  and  only  secondly  in  the  light  of  a  compara- 
tive study  of  what  has  been  deemed  wise  elsewhere;  that 
the  first  obligation  of  undergraduate  college  is  as  markedly 
as  possible  to  level  up  the  mass;  that  the  function  of  the 
college  is  not  primarily  to  develop  intellectualism,  but  in- 
telligent men  and  consideration  must  be  given  not  only  to 
mind,  but  to  soul  and  body ;  that  teaching  ability  is  essential 
in  all  men  permitted  to  meet  undergraduate  classes ;  that 
the  strength  of  a  college  is  the  strength  of  its  faculty;  that 
the  historic  colleges  were  products  of  religious  impulse  and 
so  far  as  they  glory  in  their  birth  rights  they  must  glory  in 
this ;  that  the  founders'  altruistic  purpose  of  converting 
the  heathen  savage  to  the  glory  of  God  becomes  in  modern 
parlance  a  desire  to  convert  society  to  the  welfare  of  man; 
that  either  purpose  requires  the  highest  idealism  and  the 
highest  idealism  is  the  surest  religion,  the  symbol  of  which 
is  God  and  the  manifestation  of  which  is  the  spirit  of 
Christ.     May'  this  ever  be  the  spirit  of  Dartmouth  College. 

Milton's  good  old  paraphrase  of  Psalm  136  and  the  old 
tune  of  Nurenburg  following  the  President  were  doubly 
good.  It's  always  more  enjoyable  to  talk  than  to  listen  and 
here  one  could  stand  up,  stretch  the  leg  gone  to  sleep  and 
sing,  urged  on  by  the  thought  that  old  "Nurenburg"  prob- 

311 


ably  sung  at  the  first  Commencement  was  fittingly  appro- 
priate for  this  Sesqui-Centennial  celebration  and  that  you 
had  sung  it  at  your  own  Commencement,  even  if  you 
couldn't  sing  it  now.  It  revived  one's  drooping  spirits.  The 
benediction  was  swiftly  done,  not  so  the  out  bound  academic 
procession.  With  its  attendant  Marshals  it  moved  with 
snail-like  pace  even  though  the  music  was  "Onward,  Chris- 
tian Soldiers."  But  then  the  band  were  hungry  and  you 
were  hungry,  both  for  food  and  the  scintillating  October 
sunlight  that  you  knew  rested  on  the  campus.  However, 
give  things  time  and  they  will  come  to  pass,  even  as  these 
exercises  had  come  to  pass  superbly. 

The  luncheon  on  the  campus  was  a  poetic  interlude. 
The  celebration  throng  leisurely  spread  out  over  the  green- 
sward. A  lane  had  been  roped  off  along  the  diagonal  path 
stretching  from  the  college  church  to  the  library.  On  the 
other  side  of  it  a  mass  of  freshmen  in  their  pea  green  caps 
awaited  the  coming  of  the  processional  pageantette  an- 
nounced upon  the  program.  All  of  a  sudden  like  a  mass 
of  amoeba  they  turned  about  and  broke  for  the  luncheon 
tables  set  on  the  west  side  of  the  campus  opposite  Robin- 
son. Did  the  ancient  conk  shell  sound  the  call  to  luncheon 
at  just  that  moment?  It  looked  more  as  though  the  fresh- 
men had  caught  sight  of  the  crowd  coming  from  Webster 
and  thought  it  wise  to  be  forehanded.  However,  there  was 
plenty  for  all.  The  delegates  and  guests  journeyed  on  to 
seats  at  a  table  in  the  big  tent,  but  everybody  else,  alumni 
and  students,  gathered  a  paper  plate  with  salad,  sandwiches 
and  pie  and  a  paper  cup  of  coffee  and  a  fork  and  did  a 
Japanese  juggling  act  trying  to  transfer  the  food  from  the 
plate  and  cup  to  the  mouth  standing  up.  It  sounds  easy, 
but  it  isn't  so  easy.  Besides  one  was  keeping  a  weather 
eye  out  for  that  pageantette.  The  band  sounded.  "The 
Aborigine"  scheduled  on  the  program  came  solemnly  and 
slowly  down  the  lane.  He  had  his  right  hand  raised  as 
though  he  was  giving  the  '99  salute.  Next  appeared  Occom, 
Dartmouth  and  Whitaker  walking  abreast  as  though  they 

312 


had  stepped  out  of  the  paintings  in  the  apse  of  Webster  Hall. 
Dartmouth  had  to  have  his  long  red  cloak  held  up  by  pages 
and  the  sturdy  sunlight  was  a  bit  harsh  upon  their  costumes 
and  make  up.  Next  appeared  a  blue  ox  cart  hauled  by  two 
yoke  of  white  faced  cattle.  Eleazar  in  clerical  garb  accom- 
panied by  Sylvanus  Ripley  and  Dr.  John  Crane  occupied 
the  front  of  the  cart.  They  were  dour  looking  beside  the 
driver  of  the  cattle  whose  face  wreathed  in  smiles  seemed 
to  indicate  he  was  having  the  time  of  his  life.  A  stocky 
old  chap  standing  beside  me  at  the  rope  volunteered  the 
remark  as  the  cart  passed  "Huh,  that  hain't  no  kind  of  an 
Eleazar.  Ye  ought  to  have  seen  the  Eleazar  a  class  had 
here  on  the  campus  five  years  ago.  He  were  the  real  thing." 
I  looked  quickly  again.  His  comment  was  well  taken.  This 
Eleazar  had  a  retrousse  nose  when  he  should  have  had 
strong  Roman  features.  Indeed  he  wasn't  to  be  compared 
with  Bill  Atwood's  dignified  impersonation  of  the  part  in 
the  '99  pageantette  of  the  Refounding  of  the  College  five 
years  ago  and  the  odd  part  was  that  my  criticising  neighbor 
did  not  appreciate  how  far  reaching  his  remarks  were, 
though  he  found  a  ready  agreement  with  his  opinion. 
Hamp's  old  stage  coach,  that  used  to  do  service  between 
the  college  and  the  station,  with  four  un-Hamp-like  moving 
horses,  brought  Madam  Wheelock,  students  and  personal 
slaves,  and  the  inevitable  "hogshead"  upon  the  trunk  rack. 
One  detected  a  tendency  upon  the  part  of  Madam  Wheelock 
to  flirt  with  the  onlookers,  but  then  Eleazar  was  on  ahead. 
Governor  Wentworth  and  companions  were  a  gay  appearing 
group.  John  Ledyard,  in  an  ancient  sulky,  threw  trunks 
broadcast  with  a  jerking  hand  that  was  trying  at  the  same 
time  to  hold  in  a  raw  nag.  Daniel  Webster  and  Rufus 
Choate  were  a  pair  of  rare  looking  birds,  frock-coated  and 
tall  beaver  hatted,  riding  together  in  an  ancient  canopied 
four  wheeled  chaise,  according  to  the  program  once  the 
property  of  Webster  but  now  of  the  college.  Finally  Pa- 
triotic Dartmouth,  the  Spirit  of  '76,  the  Spirit  of  '61  and 
the  Spirit  of  1917  passed  down  the  gravel  path.     The  first 


313 


three  were  picturesque,  the  second  three  produced  a  queer 
reaction.  Their  tawney  wigs  and  yellowish  McClellan 
goatees  and  their  costumes  struck  the  onlookers  as  funny. 
The  last  three,  bodies  erect,  khaki  clad,  leather  jerkins, 
overseas  metal  hats,  clean  cut  faces,  eyes  right  ahead,  with 
the  flag  flying  above  them  caused  a  thrill  to  run  down 
through  the  crowd.  It  had  all  been  like  a  picturesque  frieze 
unwinding  itself  across  the  campus  each  figure  sharply 
outlined  in  the  clear  sunlight.  One  marvelled  that  one's 
paper  cup  still  sat  unspilled  on  one's  paper  plate.  There 
was  scarcely  time  to  advert  to  it  when  one's  attention  was 
drawn  to  a  mass  of  toy  ballons,  red,  green  and  yellow, 
that  appeared  above  the  heads  of  the  throng,  making  their 
way  on  to  the  campus.  They  were  soon  scattered  and 
were  soon  sailing  skyward  until  they  became  mere  specks 
against  the  distant  blue  or  some  high  hung  cumulus  cloud. 
Ted  Legget  interrupted  star  gazing  to  ask  if  '99  had  noted 
how  much  taller  98's  candle  on  the  birthday  cake  was  than 
99's.  We  had  to  frankly  admit  it  and  congratulate  '98  on 
at  least  once  outdoing  '99.  There  was,  however,  a  certain 
pleasure  in  discovering  that  99's  candle  was  the  13th  in 
height  and  that  a  whole  lot  of  classes  of  respectable  year 
numbers  had  smaller  candles  upon  the  birthday  cake.  It 
was  certainly  some  birthday  cake,  a  good  foot  in  height 
and  five  feet  across  it,  and  it  stood  just  where  every  cir- 
culating face  feeding  alumnus,  eating  on  the  college,  might 
either  take  pleasure  or  chagrin  in  his  class  candle  upon  it. 
Another  bunch  of  gay  colored  spots  extending  from  the 
portals  of  the  Administration  Building  diverted  Ted  Legget 
from  his  candle  pride.  It  came  out  upon  the  campus  and 
separated  itself  into  innumerable  balloons  floating  above 
the  heads  of  the  throng.  At  a  given  signal  all  were  let 
loose  and  went  sailing  up,  each  with  a  tag  attached  to  its 
string.  Red,  green  and  yellow  they  made  a  gay  picture, 
lifting  up  over  the  campus,  catching  in  the  uppermost 
branches  of  the  elms,  floating  off  like  a  sky  garden,  into  the 
pale  blue  until  the  colors  faded  in  the  distance.     The  purr 


314 


of  a  flying  machine  fell  upon  the  ear  and  soon  the  machine 
itself  was  sailing  overhead.  Its  novelty  was  its  appearance 
over  the  trees  and  campus  of  Hanover.  Somehow  as  it 
sailed  about  or  fluttered  downward  through  the  high  sky 
like  a  leaf  falling  from  one  of  the  tall  elms,  it  linked  the 
Dartmouth  of  1769  up  with  the  Dartmouth  of  1919  and 
the  Dartmouth  men  who  had  been  of  the  recent  flying 
corps.  It  all  had  been  a  strangely  mixed  interlude.  To  a 
layman  it  seemed  to  have  all  the  incongruities  of  a  Debussy 
composition  and  yet  was  poetic. 

The  flying  machine  scared  homeward  most  of  the  '99ers 
except  Jerry.  We  took  in  the  educational  conference  on 
"Ancient  Languages  and  Literature,  Modern  Languages 
and  Literature  and  Fine  Arts"  held  in  Robinson  Hall.  Clar- 
ence Joy  was  there  too.  Professor  C.  D.  Adams  presided 
and  the  general  subject  was  the  "humanities  old,  and  new, 
in  college  education."  President  Neilson  of  Smith,  Profes- 
sor Babbitt  of  Harvard  and  Arthur  Fairbanks  '86,  Director 
of  the  Fine  Arts  Museum,  Boston,  led  off  the  discussion 
and  were  followed  by  five  other  speakers  the  last  of  whom, 
Professor  J.  K.  Lord,  seemed  to  get  nearest  the  heart  of 
the  matter.  Two  other  conferences,  one  on  the  sciences 
and  one  on  the  social  sciences,  were  going  on  at  the  same 
time  elsewhere.  From  the  social  science  conference  came 
reports  of  real  pyrotechnics.  The  pleasing  surprise  to  the 
humanity  group  was  that  over  eighty  were  in  attendance 
and  that  the  social  science  group  was  only  twenty  ahead  in 
attendance.  It  indicated  to  those  interested  in  the  human- 
ities that  they  were  still  of  interest. 

Eight  more  talks !  One  needed  another  interlude  to 
rebalance.  The  boys  with  the  air  guns  trying  to  hit  the 
toy  balloons  caught  up  in  the  trees ;  the  "Jack  o'Lantern" 
for  sale  at  an  oak  desk  brought  out  from  Robinson  Hall 
to  the  edge  of  the  sidewalk  by  an  enterprising  student 
manager  had  to  suffice.  Maybe  it  was  all  one  could  stand. 
An  easy  chair  in  the  lounge  of  the  Inn,  with  the  logs 
crackling  nearby  and  Ned  Kenerson's  chat  at  one's  elbow 
were  the  better  substitutes. 

315 


We  come  now  to  the  third  and  last  act,  the  celebration 
dinner  held  in  the  great  dining  room  of  the  Commons. 
One  entered  the  raftered  hall  by  the  doors  at  the  south  end. 
Down  through  the  tables  the  great  birthday  cake  sparkled 
with  candle  glow  in  the  hollow  made  by  the  formation  of 
the  head  table,  before  the  great  fireplace.  Covers  were  laid 
for  three  hundred,  according  to  Perry  near  whom  I  sat. 
The  men  were  in  evening  clothes  save  for  a  few  last  mom- 
ent low-brows  like  Ned  Kenerson  and  myself.  Perry  had 
provided  of  the  best  for  the  dinner  itself  and  when  it  came 
to  the  speaking  Mr.  Abbott  '90,  one  of  the  felicitators  of 
the  morning,  kept  the  oratorical  ball  in  play  with  a  snap 
that  made  you  think  of  Walter  McCormack  on  the  gridiron. 
Six  more  speeches,  not  wonderful  to  say,  but  wonderful  if 
one  could  recall  anything  that  was  said.  Ex-President 
Nichols  had  the  usual  and  happily  well  turned  phrase,  with 
a  good  story  of  an  elderly  Englishman  who  wrote  to  Punch 
last  year  complaining  that  Punch  no  longer  seemed  funny 
and  got  the  reply  from  the  editor  "It  never  was,"  the  appli- 
cation of  which  has  slipped  into  shadowland  along  with 
most  of  the  other  things  said.  President  Ferry  of  Hamil- 
ton, representing  the  other  Indian  Missionary  founded  col- 
lege, had  some  clever  differentiation  of  men's  and  women's 
colleges;  like,  a  "Wellesley  girl  asks  of  a  fellow, — what  is 
his  family ;  a  Bryn  Mawr  girl, — what  does  he  know,  etc. ; 
but  a  Smith  girl, — where  is  the  fellow."  Senator  Moses 
was  chiefly  and  properly  badinage  between  himself  and 
his  classmate,  the  toastmaster.  It  was  no  time  for  weighty 
thoughts.  President  Faunce  of  ;Brown  got  off  for  a  serious 
run  down  the  whole  field  for  another  touchdown  on  edu- 
cation. I  only  captured  one  thing  out  of  it.  "The  voca- 
tional schools  work  through  us,  the  humanities  work  in  us 
and  the  latter  is  the  college."  The  next  speaker  Professor 
Felix  Frankfurter  of  the  Harvard  Law  School  tried  to  put 
over  the  same  trick  upon  us.  He  got  away  with  the  ora- 
torical ball  tucked  firmly  under  the  arm  and  all  opposing 
interferences  assumingly  scattered.     But  he  forgot  such  un- 


316 


Seen  guardsmen  as  fag  and  inertia  and  while  he  made  his 
run,  it  was  a  goodly  distance, — he  never  got  across  my 
goal  line.  His  words  rolled  off  like  water  off  a  duck's 
back,  never  even  touched  the  skin,  not  to  say  making  any 
imprint  underneath  the  skin.  Dean  Laycock,  as  has  fre- 
quently been  the  case  in  recent  Dartmouth  gatherings,  had 
the  difficult  task  of  bringing  the  speaking  to  a  close.  It 
was  indeed  a  far-gone  fag,  if  his  voice  couldn't  raise  it 
somewhat  or  his  gesture  once  more  bring  life  back  to  the 
dozing  eye.  He  said  he  was  like  the  newspaper  reporter 
who  in  coming  to  report  events  to  his  paper  confessed  he 
couldn't  tell  the  story  of  the  Sesqui-Centennial,  he  could 
only  "feel"  it,  and  then  he  branched  into  one  aspect  of  it, 
the  loyal  return  of  the  alumni  and  retold  his  compara- 
tive allegory  of  the  little  old  lady  aboard  one  of  the  boats 
that  had  gone  down  Boston  harbor  to  welcome  home  an 
army  transport  upon  which  was  her  son.  It  had  the  rous- 
ing element  of  a  bit  of  music  one  has  heard  before.  It 
helped  to  return  one's  fagged  out  energies,  at  least  so  he 
knew  enough  to  turn  in  his  check  for  his  coat  and  hat. 

In  the  closing  words  of  the  toastmaster  "It  had  been 
some  celebration."  Believe  me,  too,  it  had  been.  Twenty- 
two  speeches.  I  felt  them  each  separately  and  all  together 
and  in  the  words  of  one  other  "a  good  play  needs  no  epi- 
logue." However,  one  cannot  refrain  from  adding  Profes- 
sor Colby's  chance  post-celebration  dictum  that  he  "believed 
that  every  one  had  at  some  time  during  the  day  reached 
his  saturation  point  on  speeches."  I  confessed  that  I  real- 
ized that  I  had  and  ventured  the  opinion  that  if  there  were 
he  who  had  come  through  the  ordeal  without  having  reached 
the  saturation  point,  such  person  merited  the  reward  of 
Grand  Marshal  at  the  next  celebration. 


317 


PROFESSOR  JOHN  VOSE  HAZEN 

Teacher,  Leader,  and  Companion 

When  we  men  of  '99,  now  more  than  twenty  years  out 
of  college,  pause  and  let  reason  transform  the  pleasanter 
and  more  usual  picture  of  our  old  professors  we  realize 
that  they  too  have  grown  twenty  years  older;  but  when 
death  does  come  to  one  of  them  we  are  none  the  less 
shocked  and  grieved. 

Professor  John  Vose  Hazen  died  October  2,  19 19  in 
his  sixty-ninth  year  and  while  still  on  the  active  list  of 
professors  of  the  college. 

A  very  complete  history  of  his  life  and  activities  and 
a  sincere  appreciation  of  the  man  may  be  found  in  the 
October  number  of  The  Alumni  Magazine.  It  seems  fitting, 
however,  that  '99  should  recall  at  this  time  some  of  the 
associations  of  the  dass  with  Professor  Hazen. 

Probably  half  of  the  class  did  not  have  the  pleasure 
of  knowing  Johnny  Vose  in  the  class  room — the  other  half 
met  him  in  freshman  graphics,  but  with  the  Thayer  men 
he  was  the  one  professor  under  whom  they  sat  for  some 
part  of  every  term  of  every  college  year. 

It  was  the  senior  year  in  college,  being  also  the  first 
year  in  the  Thayer  School  when  we  came  to  know  him  most 
intimately,  reciting  to  him  for  an  hour  in  the  morning  and 
then  dividing  into  field  parties  and  proceeding  to  the  hills, 
and  woods  to  "lay  out"  the  Mink  Brook  Railway.  "Johnny" 
was  not  then  the  professor,  but  our  chief. 

At  noon  we  assembled  at  some  inviting  spot  and  ate 
our  lunches. 

Then  would  his  companionship,  his  wit,  his  twinkling 
eye  and  friendly  counsel  win  us.  He  was  one  of  us.  At 
the  end  of  the  day's  work  (for  it  was  not  a  picnic)  we 
would,  at  "Johnny's"  word,  shoulder  "guns"  and  rods  and 

318 


axes  and  start  for  Hanover.  He  seemed  to  know  within 
sixty  seconds  the  time  it  would  take  to  walk  in  from  any- 
given  point  within  five  miles  of  Hanover,  and  "Johnny" 
always  led  the  way. 

We  might  keep  abreast  of  him  and  engage  in  friendly 
talk,  but  we  never  passed  him  and  we  never  arrived  before 
supper  was  ready. 

Professor  Hazen's  subjects  were  not  those  of  pure 
mathematics  nor,  in  general,  those  of  intricate  theory  and 
design,  but  were  rather  of  the  more  "practical"  nature, 
training  the  combined  use  of  mind,  hand,  and  eye, — those 
subjects  involving  not  the  analytical  functions  of  the  brain 
but  the  development  of  common  sense,  technique,  and  good 
practice. 

Thus  it  was  when  we  were  mature  enough  to  measure 
the  man  we  found  John  Vose  Hazen  accurate,  painstaking, 
possessed  of  a  wonderful  memory,  an  exceptional  judge  of 
the  real  value  of  his  pupils'  work,  extremely  fair,  possessor 
of  a  keen  sense  of  humor,  a  teacher  of  rare  ability,  partic- 
ularly in  preparing  a  man  to  coordinate  theory  and  prac- 
tice, and  a  good  companion. 

His  memory  will  be  cherished  by  all  who  knew  him 
and  cherished  most  by  those  who  knew  him  best. 

Albert  H.  Greenwood. 


PROF.  CHARLES  HENRY  HITCHCOCK 

August  23,  1836  to  November  6,  1919 

Dartmouth  '99  men  will  remember  Prof.  Charles 
Henry  Hitchcock  simply  as  "Type."  As  such  he  was  part 
of  the  indispensable  environment  that  made  our  Dartmouth. 
We  are  likely,  first  of  all,  to  remember  the  seniors  in  the 
spring  of  '96  storming  down  the  north  corridor  of  Dart- 
mouth Hall — while  we  were  with  Charlie  Darwin  in  Greek 


319 


— and  entering  the  room  opposite  ours  chanting  their  war 
cry — "We  elected,  we  elected,  we  elected  Type,  Type,  Type, 
Type — " ;  or  we  will  recall  the  tradition  that  in  his  forty 
years  from  1868  to  1908  as  Hall  Professor  of  Geology  and 
Mineralogy  he  never  flunked  but  one  man. 

But  the  more  we  review  the  facts  in  Professor  Hitch- 
cock's life  the  more  impressive  they  become.  Son  of  a 
college  president,  Edwin  Hitchcock  of  Amherst;  born  at 
Amherst  August  23,  1836,  receiving  his  A.  B.  in  1856  and 
his  A.  M.  three  years  later,  forty  years  before  '99  graduated; 
a  student  of  theology  at  Yale  Divinity  School  and  Andover 
Theological  Seminary;  a  student  in  the  Royal  School  of 
Mines  in  London;  a  notable  traveler  not  only  in  the  United 
States,  but  also  in  Europe,  in  Australia,  and  in  the  Ha- 
waiian Islands.  Then  there  were  his  active  and  honorary 
memberships  in  geological  and  scientific  institutes,  acad- 
emies, societies,  American  and  foreign ;  and  his  pamphlets, 
books,  treatises,  monographs,  maps  and  reports  up  to  a 
number  between  one  and  two  hundred.  "Type"  was  a 
broad,  thorough,  productive  scholar.  Probably  his  most 
notable  accomplishments  were  the  heading  of  an  expedi- 
tion in  the  winter  of  1 870-1  which  occupied  the  summit 
ol  Mount  Washington  and  established  the  first  high  moun- 
tain observatory  in  the  United  States,  and  the  monumental 
Geology  of  New  Hampshire  in  four  volumes. 

His  home  life  was  a  very  happy  and  simple  one.  He 
married  his  first  wife,  Miss  Martha  Barrows,  daughter  of 
Prof.  E.  P.  Barrows  of  Andover,  in  1862.  Of  their  three 
daughters  the  first,  Maria,  married  F.  J.  Allen  '89  but 
died  in  1895.  The  other  two,  Martha  and  Alleine,  to- 
gether with  his  second  wife,  Miss  Charlotte  Barrows,  mar- 
ried in  1895,  survive  him.  They  live  in  Honolulu,  where 
he  died,  in  a  house  which  he  built  when  he  moved  in  1908 
to  the  Hawaiian  Islands  to  study  the  action  of  volcanos. 

Doctor  Hitchcock  was  very  fond  of  outdoor  life.  He 
usually  kept  a  horse  and  frequently  made  long  geological 
trips,  always  with  a  black  bag  filled  with  an  assortment 


320 


of  rock  hammers.  He  could  often  be  seen  also  paddling 
on  the  river  in  a  little  boat  which  he  kept  for  many  years. 

Many  of  the  boys  will  remember  the  trips  taken  in 
connection  with  the  work  in  the  classroom.  They  will  re- 
member how  "Type"  would  take  the  lead  over  rough  coun- 
try, the  boys  following  in  Indian  style  in  the  rear.  When 
we  wished  to  go  a  long  distance  we  made  these  trips  on 
our  bicycles,  taking  our  lunch,  thus  making  a  real  outing. 

Doctor  Hitchcock  made  many  contributions  to  the 
Museum,  especially  in  connection  with  the  pre-historic 
age.  Up  to  1899  the  greater  part  of  the  collection  was 
made  by  him.  Among  other  things  he  gave  many  botanical 
specimens. 

But  the  greatest  contribution  he  made  to  Dartmouth 
was  after  all  in  the  example  of  a  man  who  in  spite  of  im- 
mense learning  remained  modest  and  unassuming  to  the 
last,  and  of  a  man  whose  confidence  in  human  nature  was 
so  profound  that  he  instinctively  saw  in  his  students  the 
men  they  might  be  rather  than  the  men  they  too  often  were. 

Edwin  L.  Allen. 


321 


THE  SPIRIT  OF  DARTMOUTH  SPEAKS 

With  this  page  you  close  another  chapter  in  that  vol- 
ume you  call  Dartmouth.  Year  after  year  you  read  in  it, 
yet  the  story  grows  not  old. 

You  close  your  eyes ;  and  the  buildings,  the  trees,  the 
Tower,  the  hills,  the  river,  the  profs,  the  classmates,  the 
collegemates,  the  eating  tables,  the  note  books,  the  cheers, 
the  walks,  the  dreams,  the  songs, — all  in  endlessly  repeated 
panoramic  procession, — march  up  and  down  and  through 
and  occupy  the  country  of  your  soul.  You  are  a  changed 
man  forever, — yourself  still,  yes,  but  much  more  than 
yourself, — a  Son  of  Dartmouth,  loving  and  beloved. 


322 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS-URBANA 

C.D25U1899S     C001 

Vicennial  report  of  Dartmouth  '99 :  foil 


3 i:  ..^aSBrl 


